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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688394">Sole Memorial</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryJoker/pseuds/StoryJoker'>StoryJoker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Bug's Life (1998)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Delves into both sides of memory loss, F/M, Lore and truth being revealed bit by bit, Lost Love, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Pining, aftermath of a tragedy, no beta we die like men, soul pains</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:07:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>47,033</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryJoker/pseuds/StoryJoker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Flik has been a part of P.T. Flea's Circus for all five years of his memory. As a result of a curse, all that remains of his original self is the basic framework of a soul that keeps him alive. He loves his very strange family, smothering as some can be, but he longs to know what once filled the gaps in his heart and, later, where a Princess fits in it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Atta/Flik (A Bug's Life), Dot &amp; Flik (A Bug's Life), Flik &amp; Circus Troupe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: Re-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hallo! Long time no see, anyone who's seen me before. Somehow. As for everyone else, welcome to Sole Memorial! I'll just be posting this here to test the waters, but the rest of the chapters I've written so far will come in shortly.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: I don't own anything here. There, I said it. XD</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fading music rode wind to a quiet clearing, a campsite decorated in colorful caravans. From red to black to green and blue, they each reflected the moonlight as gems would any light. Cheery and colorful as the sight was, it wasn't so for the owners of the caravans. Solemnly, a group of nine drifted to the camp, burnt, bruised or simply disgruntled. In the distance behind them stood a magnificent red and white tent, but there was no music nor laughter.</p>
<p>Evidently, they were performers who had just finished a lackluster day. Manto the Magnificent might even call it disastrous, and it was, seeing as he was still picking crushed fruit from his graying hair. He felt his wife, his lovely assistant Gypsy, take his hand and he smiled appreciatively. Her undying support was always welcome, especially after a yet another day as a failure in entertainment.</p>
<p>As the group prepared to part once they passed the first caravan, Gypsy jumped. Everyone looked to her when they noticed her—and Manny's—sudden stop. The feathers in her hair stood upright as she pointed to a motionless mass lying next to the fire pit. "There's someone there!" she whispered, and they all gathered to take a look.</p>
<p>In the light of the full moon which turned the world silver, there was no mistaking the broken boy lying face-up in the middle of their camp. Upon closer inspection, it was clear he wore some rather fine clothes, based solely on their long and flowing shape. He was also strangely clean, aside from the dirt clinging to his outline, and no one could deny he had been placed there rather than dropped or dragged. On the other hand, he was also covered in bruises and scratches, a canvas full of errors.</p>
<p>"Oh, Dim, don't look!" Rosie covered the eyes of the curious rhinoceros, leading him away as quickly as she could. In the quiet of the scene, her six legs made rhythmic taps on the dirt ground.</p>
<p>Next, Francis circled the unconscious teenager, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. "Somebody did a number on this kid." He pushed away two curious small men, Tuck and Roll, both of whom chattered in a language none of them knew, as they got a little too close. "Hey, back off! Give him some space."</p>
<p>When he himself stepped back, Slim stood in his place. He knelt down and then bent his torso even further to get a closer look. The tower of a man raised an eyebrow at the contradiction before him. "Do you think someone dropped him off here?"</p>
<p>"Abandoned?" gasped Gypsy. Her hand tightened its hold on her husband's, and soon she was the one being comforted. "Oh, the poor thing!"</p>
<p>"Vat if his parents are looking for him?" Heimlich asked from the side, shuffling around the others to get a better look.</p>
<p>"Heimlich is right. We cannot assume he doesn't have loved ones out there," Manny acknowledged. Indeed, the boy was dropped there, but anyone could have done it. They had to choose their next actions wisely. "We should look for his family."</p>
<p>Francis crossed his arms, eyes furrowed. "P.T. won't let us take a day off to help some kid, and tomorrow is our last day!"</p>
<p>"Then we must start tonight."</p>
<p>"And if he's not from around here? Or if he doesn't have any family?"</p>
<p>"P.T. will never take him in!" Slim fretted.</p>
<p>"Maybe he won't, but we can," supplied Rosie as she returned. "I'm sure he won't mind so long as he doesn't have to pay." She stood over the boy and drew silk from her fingers to weave into a blanket.</p>
<p>"How's that gonna work? He doesn't even pay <em>us</em> squat!"</p>
<p>"Ssh! He's waking up!"</p>
<p>Everyone backed off once they heard a groan and the teenager's eyelids clenched and fluttered. His breathing then became shallow and heavy, and he put a hand to his heart, a fist balling over it as if to pull it out. When he finally did open his eyes and notice the spectators, his face became fearful and he scrambled to get to his feet. He had only managed to get to his knees when he slipped, too weak to support his frame, and yet he tried to crawl away. The poor thing barely got anywhere, fingers making trails in the dirt as he tried in vain to put some distance between him and the troupe.</p>
<p>"Don't push yourself, honey." Rosie set the unfinished blanket aside and slowly made her way towards him. She stood near him, kneeling down so as to not look so intimidating. When the boy became still, and his breathing slowed to a relatively smooth rhythm, she extended her hand to help him up. "Are you all right? The ground isn't a very comfortable place to sleep."</p>
<p>Hesitant and wary, the young man took the hand and leaned on her. He began to truly relax when it was clear no one would harm him. "I-I'm sorry." His voice was hoarse, evidence that he had once been screaming. "I wasn't being a bother, was I?"</p>
<p>"No, you weren't, don't worry," Gypsy assured, giving a gentle smile. "We were just concerned about you. Do you have family somewhere?" She dared to get close, certain that the lost boy would feel less threatened when approached by women. "We can help you get home, if you'd like."</p>
<p>His face contorted with pain and he gripped the spot over his heart once more. "I… I don't know." While his eyes didn't quite widen, absolute horror and grief began to materialize there. "I don't know anything." With this revelation, he began to hyperventilate again and both hands grabbed at his hair.</p>
<p>"There, there, it'll be okay," Slim tried to comfort him, though awkward in his attempts. He pulled the teenager's hands from his head so he wouldn't hurt himself. "You might merely be in shock. Let's start with something simple, like a name. Surely you remember your name."</p>
<p>Suddenly, the boy had a faraway look in his eyes, and the moonlight soon started reflecting off falling tears. Hurriedly, he tried to wipe them away. "I'm sorry... I don't know what's gotten into me." He tried to laugh it off, but it was so dry, so forced, so <em>empty</em>. "I really don't…"</p>
<p>Manny stepped forward and raised his hand. "That is enough, child. Rest now." Floating his hand over the boy's eyes, he cast a spell of sleep. As soon as their souls met, the magician was struck with a horrible sting and he staggered back, cutting off the connection.</p>
<p>"Manny!" Gypsy caught him, and kept him standing. "What's wrong? You look so pale."</p>
<p>Indeed, his eyes had become haunted. He breathed shakily as one would after waking from a nightmare. "Oh, the pain…" Manny closed his eyes to rest at least one of his senses. "The boy has been afflicted with such a terrible curse." He had glimpsed it: a manifestation so wilted, torn, and ragged; floating in the void that was the boy's heart. There was no mistaking what had happened to him. "Dying Memory. What a cruel fate."</p>
<p>"Dying Memory?! But that's—"</p>
<p>"Anysing but zat!"</p>
<p>"Now we really can't leave him alone."</p>
<p>"Is there really nothing left?"</p>
<p>When he had recovered, Manny pulled away from his wife and raised a hand over the unconscious teenager. Thankfully, that one cast had been enough to send him back into slumber. "There may be nothing, but I will search." The magician quivered slightly as he began to reconnect their souls, and he heard the boy's soft breathing become labored as a result.</p>
<p>There was the pain again, but he was ready for it. Soon, he saw a void sprinkled with shattered pieces of a soul. There were no memories among these pieces, nothing outside of the basics of living and possible personality. When the soul comes back together, it would be so small; the boy would be so sickly.</p>
<p>In the deafening silence, there broke a single chime. It worried him how faint, small, and far away it sounded. When it came again a few seconds later, it was even fainter and weaker: a persevering memory on its last legs. There was no way he would be able to reach it before it was gone, but he pushed through regardless for the chance to catch <em>something</em>.</p>
<p>The ache that persisted in the void suddenly disappeared as Manny found himself back in the real world. His legs shook as he struggled to stand, and once more he leaned on Gypsy for support. "I found it… just in time. A single name," he breathed, and the others surrounded him to hear what he had to say. "It was so corrupted, but it was there."</p>
<p>"Well, get to it. What's the name?"</p>
<p>"It was..." It took him but a moment to gather his bearings, to recover enough to speak again. "...Flik."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Under Watchful Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Bright" and "warm" were the typical words one would use to describe the summer, and "colorful" would be thrown in for this particular time. Chatter and laughter filled the streets from both adults and children alike as they followed the cobblestone path to a large pasture that served as land for a fair. The fairgrounds were littered with lines of more colorful tents that served as shops, games, even fortune tellers. Here and there were petting farms for the little ones or animal lovers and to the further end there was an empty plot for races or reserved reenactments.</p><p>Perhaps the cream of the crop was the circus that had come to town: P.T. Flea's. A proud red and white tent stood right in the center of the fairgrounds and the stars gave previews of the night's acts outside. Rosie had a scaffold set up in order to practice her elaborate silk dancing; Manny was practicing the magic of metamorphosis with Gypsy; Dim led fellow animals around while Tuck and Roll jumped from back to back. They enjoyed cheers and applause from the audience gathered around, and they were eager for more come sundown.</p><p>One would think that clowns would be walking around, and they were. They were also calling, not in any comedic manner, but concerned and maybe panicked.</p><p>"Flik!"</p><p>"Flik, kiddo!"</p><p>"Vere are you?"</p><p>With his face hidden under a green cap, the missing young man weaved between man, woman, boy, and girl to the edge of the fairgrounds. In his arms was a parcel that he held as dear as a baby, careful to protect it from impact of wall or body. His feet flew from grass to cobblestone as the runner made his way to no direction in particular. As the crowd diminished, he soon found himself in a plaza, complete with a fountain and a full view of the Anterrian castle.</p><p>The hum of the water soothed him, a sweet contrast to the varied screams back at the fair and the deafening quiet of the caravans. Flik breathed the smell of fresh bread and sweets from a nearby bakery and took a seat at the fountain. Yes, this was the perfect spot to get to work. He unwrapped his parcel, a small catapult, and began to fiddle with its parts.</p><p>His thoughts began to wander, despite his attempts to concentrate on the catapult. By now, it had become routine for him to sneak away from the circus while busy. It wasn't that he disliked being there, but he sometimes needed some wide open and bustling space on his own. The others could be a bit stifling when trying to help him through the effects of his curse: Dying Memory.</p><p>Manny had told Flik about it once, and then reminded him a few times. The common knowledge of the spell was that it erased memories, and personal experience told him it left years-long damage on his now-small soul. He hadn't given it much thought for the first few years, but lately he wanted to know why someone cast such a spell on him. He had entertained a few scenarios: maybe he was some sort of master criminal back in the day, or he walked in on a murder scene, or he just insulted a very powerful and petty witch or warlock. Honestly, nothing made sense except that he was sure someone just really hated him.</p><p>But enough of that for now. "Let's see… The trigger looks kinda loose." He began fiddling with said trigger, not realizing how close to the catapult arm he had been leaning, when the sling came loose and the cup bore all its force on his poor forehead. "Ow! That smarts!" He set the catapult down next to him and rubbed the sore spot.</p><p>"Haha! You're so weird!"</p><p>Flik blinked at the new voice and turned to his left, where a lilac-haired child was sitting. She was smiling and laughing at him, but he couldn't find it in himself to be mad at her. Probably because he worked in a circus. "Um…"</p><p>The little girl got up and curtsied. "You can call me Dot," she greeted. "What's your name?"</p><p>"I'm… Flik."</p><p>"What'cha working on?" She reached for and obtained the catapult before Flik could take it and looked it over as best she could. After a few seconds, she quickly put it back, as it was too heavy for her to carry for long.</p><p>"It's a catapult. Kinda. I'm still trying to get it to work," the young man explained as he began fiddling with the catapult once more. He tightened the sling and tested the trigger, finding that the catapult just won't launch. "It's a little important."</p><p>"Are you gonna use it to hurt people?"</p><p>"No! No, it's supposed to throw pies."</p><p>"Are you a clown?"</p><p>"Well, I guess—"</p><p>"That's right!"</p><p>"Whoa!" Suddenly, Flik felt hands grab him from behind and he was hung over a seven-foot-high shoulder. Seems like he was found by the guys. His catapult fell to the ground, the impact triggering it to launch itself and hit a feminine and disgruntled face, a very familiar one. "Whoops. Sorry, Francis."</p><p>Clearly not accepting the apology, the feminine clown glared right at Flik. "You better be! Rosie would kill us if she—"</p><p>"Hey! Leave him alone!" Dot had her arms crossed and her foot was tapping, clearly expecting them to obey. She was either very brave, considering she was facing some strangers, or she just knew they weren't a threat. Seeing the clowns so confused when faced with a little girl was rather funny.</p><p>"I'm okay, Dot. They're friends," Flik laughed. "Dot, meet Francis, Slim, and Heimlich. Guys, meet Dot."</p><p>"Hey, how're ya doin'?"</p><p>"Hello, there."</p><p>"Hello!"</p><p>"Oh? Then, hi!" Discarding her defensive act, Dot regained her smile. "So, you're clowns from the circus downtown?"</p><p>"Ja! You schould come see us sometime." Heimlich handed her a pamphlet. The paper fluttered even in so little wind. "Vee'll be here for zee duration of zee fair!"</p><p>"In fact, starting today, we're trying out an improved act. This guy's joining us for the first time." Francis poked Flik's cheek, much to the latter's annoyance. "So long as he stays put, that is."</p><p>"You know, I'd love to join this conversation while actually facing everyone. Can I get down now?"</p><p>Slim didn't loosen his hold nor make any move to set the young man back onto the ground. "No can do. We can't risk you slipping off again, you know." There was no denying he had a point, much to Flik's chagrin.</p><p>"Just put him down," Dot laughed. "By order of—"</p><p>"Princess Dot! There you are!" A fancy-robed man accompanied by guards hurried up to Dot. "You had everyone worried sick. How many times have we told you not to wander from the castle?"</p><p>"But I'm just outside, Mr. Soil! I can even see Atta's room from here," said the princess, waving to the highest window of said castle. A glint of light flickered back.</p><p>"There are far too many ruffians outside the walls. What if you got hurt? Or worse?" The robed man led Dot toward the guards before turning to the clowns. He didn't seem to be fazed that Slim was practically carrying a captive over his shoulder. "I must thank you sirs for watching over our young princess. I hope she was not too bothersome."</p><p>"Uh… nope! Sweet as a peach." In the confusion, Flik finally managed to dislodge himself, only to fall unceremoniously to the ground. Once he dusted himself off, he noticed Mr. Soil staring right at him. "Hm?"</p><p>"Do I know you?"</p><p>Everything went quiet and Flik's eyes went wide. "D-do you really?" For the first time in the five years he had been conscious, he felt hope. "Funny thing is: I don't have any memories beyond five years ago." He began to fidget. Here was someone who probably recognized him, perhaps knew him before he had joined the circus. Maybe he could finally learn about his original self, when he had a full soul. "So, if you do happen to know me, could you possibly fill in some of the blanks?"</p><p>He could have sworn there was a flash of recognition, but his hopes were dashed when the man said: "I'm sorry. I suppose I had you confused for someone else," as he turned away. "We shall take our leave now. Good day to you sirs."</p><p>"Huh?! B-but—"</p><p>"<em>Good day</em>." Insistent on returning to the castle, Soil hurried away.</p><p>Dot looked back once and called out "Bye, Flik!" before she was covered out of sight by the group of guards.</p><p>Flik wasn't sure how long he had stood there after they left, or even how long he had been staring dejectedly at the ground. Maybe he just got worked up way too soon. Lost in thought, he almost didn't feel the hand on his shoulder.</p><p>"Hey, let's just get home." Francis gave him a sympathetic pat. "You wanna sit out for today? You can just join us tomorrow." He couldn't say things like "I'm sure you'll remember someday," because it was impossible.</p><p>Knowing that was probably the hardest to get used to. "N-no, I'll be fine." Slowly, Flik retrieved his neglected catapult and followed his friends back to the fairgrounds. All the while, one hand clutched his chest, a habit he had developed over the years. He tried to push back all the questions that wanted to flood his mind. At the very least, he should wait to ask Manny.</p><p>Passing the fairgrounds and trekking up the hill to the camp, the clowns led Flik to a green and blue caravan. It was one that he shared with Manny and Gypsy (the others would joke that they'd become his parents). Flik unlocked the door, bid a quick farewell to his friends, and entered the tiny residence.</p><p>Inside, dark wood was clothed in floral sheets just as blue and green as the caravan's outer shell. There in the back was a bed fitting two, and the hollowed crawl space below the bed served as Flik's own resting place. To the right were drawers for clothes and picture frames followed by a couch for guests; to the left was a much smaller cushioned bench followed by an antique cabinet. All in all, it was a tight fit, but it was home.</p><p>But he didn't come to admire the interior. It was the large wooden box lying right on the floor that Flik was after. Leaving the catapult on the small bench, he gathered the box and brought it outside. Settling down on the grass, he emptied the contents onto the ground. The first to come out was a folded wooden frame, followed by a gold-orange tarp with feathers at one end, then orange wings, and finally a gigantic red bird head slightly smaller than Heimlich's diameter. All of these were part of a large fake bird Flik wanted to use for tonight's show.</p><p>The anticipation of putting together the bird cleared out all the negativity in his mind, and he rubbed his hands together. "Right! Today's the day, buddy. We're gonna have our debut!" He began assembling the frame, everything already fitting into place thanks to weeks upon weeks of tinkering and molding. The wings fit easily into the body and the frame looked nice and even under the tarp. Once he attached the head, he stepped back to admire his masterpiece. "Lookin' good! Now, for the final test." He put the costume over himself and grabbed the handles controlling the beak, swooping forward as if the bird was eating something. So far, so good! And it held together well.</p><p>"You look like you're having fun," giggled a sweet voice. "Is this what's taking up all that space in our home?" Gypsy peeked through the beak, smiling at the young man inside. "You're really going all out for tonight."</p><p>Flik got out of the costume and gently set it back on the grass. "Yep! It's my very first show! My chance to prove myself!"</p><p>"You're already doing all right as our mechanic," commented the assistant, fiddling with some of the blue feathers in her reddish-brown hair. "Oh, but I'm excited to see what you'll do with this. What's the plan?"</p><p>"You'll see!"</p><p>"And here I was worried you would be in low spirits." The two turned to see Manny stride towards them, chin up in a show of confidence. Clearly, he had a satisfactory time at the previews. "If you are finished, we should be going inside."</p><p>Flik sighed. "That time again?"</p><p>"I will try to make this quick, my boy." They wasted no time going back to the caravan, and the air took on the hint of dread. Moving the catapult aside, Manny took a seat on the small bench and gestured for Flik to lie down on the guest couch. "Now, close your eyes."</p><p>Flik tried to relax, concentrate on anything except the procedure, but then his thoughts cut off and he let out a sharp gasp. Even though he knew otherwise, it felt like his heart was pulled out of his chest while still connected by a string. Something that felt like tendrils began to tug at his soul, fluffing it up like a pillow. They stretched and shaped it to fill out what emptiness it could. The still-gaping wounds and still-forming scars of the soul shifted along as it was kneaded, sending shocks of pain throughout his body. He clenched his teeth, his fingers and toes curled as he tried not to ball up.</p><p>The only comfort came from Gypsy taking one of his hands. "It'll be over soon," she tried to soothe him, very much like a mother would a sickly child. "You're doing great."</p><p>Thankfully, the process tended to only last a few minutes at most. When he began to hear the sound of breaking seams, it all stopped. Air began rushing into his lungs and he just realized he hadn't been breathing properly. He also felt just a little less empty, probably the only good thing to ever come out of this soul-fluffing therapy. From the corner of his eye, he saw Manny was fatigued himself, holding his head.</p><p>"How is he?" Gypsy asked, now next to her husband so he could lean on her. "How much progress have you made?"</p><p>Panting to regain his breath, Manny rubbed at his temples. "He's… recovering well, but there was instability in his soul." After a few moments, he sat back up and faced his patient. "What seems to be the matter, Flik?"</p><p>Flik found the strength to wave at him. "It's nothing. Just thought someone might have known me." He could see the magician's sympathy.</p><p>"Ah, yes. The boys have told me."</p><p>"Right, of course they—wait, if you knew, then why ask me?"</p><p>"I wanted to hear from you, of course," Manny chuckled. "Now, I've noticed instability, but does that little instant still bother you?"</p><p>Flik sighed. "I'll get over it." Glancing at a window, he realized he was running out of time. "Oh no! I'm supposed to practice with the guys!" He tried to sit up, but Gypsy stopped him.</p><p>"We can't have you performing with an unstable soul, dear. Don't worry, you don't have to earn your keep just yet." She kept a hand on his shoulder to keep him down with surprising strength. It was easy to forget with her delicate appearance. "You're still technically five years old anyway."</p><p>"I'm not five!" That didn't help his case. "Look, it's just my soul, and it's healing! I promise the moment something's off, I'll exit right away!"</p><p>"Bird and all?"</p><p>"Yes, yes!"</p><p>The married couple gave each other quiet and slightly exasperated looks before conceding. "One act," Manny conditioned with a sigh. "One hopefully short act, and that is all."</p><p>"Great! Perfect! Gotta go!" Flik scrambled off the couch, not even waiting for Gypsy to move her hand, and dashed to the door. Just as he opened it to practically fly out, he ran into Rosie's arm.</p><p>"Whoa there! Didn't you just finish therapy?" she laughed, holding the young man up before he could collapse.</p><p>"I'm fine! Fit as a button."</p><p>"You mean 'fit as a fiddle?'"</p><p>"Yeah, sure. I just need to find the guys. I'm part of their act today!" Flik squirmed and struggled, but Rosie clearly had no intention of just letting him go. When his legs gave way, he just hung on her arm, frustrated.</p><p>The spider-like woman let herself in, somehow graceful despite having so many legs. "You don't have to run, you know. Your legs were wobbling earlier." She practically dragged him back to the couch and made him sit, much to his annoyance and everyone else's amusement. "So, I heard about what happened in town."</p><p>Flik rolled his eyes. "First Manny and Gypsy, and now you."</p><p>"Hey, they were worried about you," Rosie crossed her arms, but her smile never left.</p><p>"They didn't have to tell everyone."</p><p>"P.T. doesn't know."</p><p>"P.T. doesn't care."</p><p>"What was that?" Any and all laughter ceased as the short ringmaster stepped into the caravan, not seeming to mind how crowded it was getting. "Geez, I was lookin' for you guys! We have very special guests coming, so go practice your acts!"</p><p>The ribbon dancer began fiddling her fingers. "Oh? Is tonight really that important? Maybe Flik should delay his debut."</p><p>"Rosie, I'm fine."</p><p>"<em>All hands on deck</em>! We're being visited by the royal family today. We gotta put on a performance like no other!" The small man then pointed at Flik. "That means you, too, Newbie!"</p><p>"Yes, sir."</p><p>"That's what I like to hear. Now, get to it! And check the cannon when you're done!" P.T. dashed away, hopping like his namesake to presumably look for the others to spread the news.</p><p>After a few seconds, Flik stood up. "Well, you heard the man. Let's all practice and make this a night they'll never forget!" Standing once again, he was pleased to see that his legs had stabilized. With a relieved sigh, he made his way to the door.</p><p>"Remember your promise, Flik!" Manny called.</p><p>"I know!" With a wave, the clown dashed into freedom, making a quick detour to grab his bird and rush to the field where the others would be practicing. A tailwind sped him along and he could have sworn he heard some celebratory song.</p>
<hr/><p>Dot flew up the spiraling stairs of the castle's tallest tower, giggling the entire way. Royal blue walls and floors gave way to soft purple the closer she got to the lonely door at the top of the stairs. The guards that stood there paid her no mind, for she was a princess. Knocking on the package flap, she heard a soft "Come in," allowing her to pull a key from her dress pocket and unlock the door.</p><p>"Atta! Atta! We're going to the circus tonight!" the small princess announced, rushing up to the bed at the other side of the room.</p><p>"I know. Mother told me earlier." Atta did not move from the window, peering through a green, crudely-made telescope at the outside world.</p><p>Dot climbed onto the bed and sat next to her sister. "I met the clowns, too! I really like the blue one the most. His name's Flik!" she chattered cheerily. "You saw him, didn't you?"</p><p>"Yes, I did." Atta set the telescope on her lap and smiled sadly. She mumbled something, but Dot couldn't hear. Turning to the smaller princess, Atta sighed and gave her a stern look. "But you shouldn't be going up to strangers like that."</p><p>"He didn't look suspicious!"</p><p>"Even if you somehow knew for sure that he's a good guy, the guards might misunderstand. They might arrest him and—"</p><p>"You're actually worried about <em>him</em>, aren't you?" Dot wasn't sure if she was satisfied or just more curious when Atta clammed up. Seeing how uncomfortable her sister looked, she decided against prying. The last thing she wanted right now was to make her sad. "It's okay. We only talked."</p><p>The elder princess nodded. "I know, I saw." She fiddled with the telescope, a fond smile on her features. "He looked so happy."</p><p>"Not the whole time," said Dot, frowning. "He got kinda sad when Mr. Soil said he didn't remember him. Flik said he can't remember anything from before five years ago."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Yeah. I wonder what happened…"</p><p>"...I wonder, too."</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Two Firsts and a Second</h2></a>
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      <p>"I call upon the voice of the Equinox Philosopher!"</p>
      <p>From behind the curtains, Flik watched as Manny spun the Cabinet of Metamorphosis. Normally, he would be completely focused on the show, but his mind kept wandering this time. It was almost time for the clowns to act, and each passing second made him more jittery, yet they also seemed agonizingly slow. Part of him wanted to get this thing over with, another part wanted to take some more time to perfect his performance. He glanced at the bird costume at the side, just waiting for its chance to shine, and then looked around the backstage for some distraction.</p>
      <p>It didn't really help. The backroom was just as bustling as the outside floor itself. Even when resting, nobody simply laid around and relaxed. To one side, Rosie was praising Dim and giving him treats, and then checking him over in case she accidentally struck him, Judging by the rhino's pleased expression, he was totally fine. Nearer to the curtains, Tuck and Roll were arguing in their unintelligible language and wrestling. As it was an everyday occurrence, they were left uninterrupted. Way in the back, Heimlich was chasing Francis and Slim as last minute practice for their upcoming act. Well, it was either that or Francis had stolen the large clown's pie and everyone knew Heimlich magically became active when he was hungry.</p>
      <p>Giving up, Flik looked back outside, where he caught sight of the highwire poles. Thoughts congregated in his head and his heart began to race with excitement. Wouldn't it be amazing if the bird flew down from above?!</p>
      <p>"Uh oh, that's the face of someone who's got an idea."</p>
      <p>Perfect! Just the person he wanted to ask! "Rosie! I have—"</p>
      <p>"No can do. You don't want to overdo it." The ribbon dancer pulled him away from the curtains. "I don't care how much better you think it'll be. If we haven't rehearsed, we can't do it."</p>
      <p>"Just think of it as improvisation!" Flik pleaded, putting his hands together. "You just need to lower me—the bird—to the ground for a split second. I don't need to fly!"</p>
      <p>"You don't need to try so hard, either. It's just one act, and I'm sure you'll be fine." She gestured to the resting bird. "Besides, do you even have a harness in that thing? I don't think you expect me to just lower you without one." Remembering the frame under the tarp, Flik knew she was right. It wouldn't be easy to float down as is, and untying the silk could be a hassle.</p>
      <p>With a defeated sigh, he lost his energetic posture. "Okay, you're right. I just wanted to prove myself, you know? I mean, I don't work everyday like the rest of you do. Only when something needs fixing." It certainly didn't feel like enough to warrant the roof over his head and the food he shared with everyone. "You all took me in when I didn't have anything. Shouldn't I be giving back?"</p>
      <p>Rosie huffed and rolled her eyes. "We didn't adopt you on a loan or anything like that. It's all unconditional, got it? <em>Unconditional</em>." She gave him a light punch to the arm as she enunciated. "Just take care of yourself, that's all we want. And I mean it."</p>
      <p>Before Flik could retort, he heard a loud applause. He felt his heart pounding as he realized it was time for clowns to go out.</p>
      <p>"Magic show is over! You clowns get out there now!" P.T. shouted from the curtain before leaping back out to announce the act.</p>
      <p>"Oh, I hate performing on an empty shtomach," Heimlich whined. Dressed as a bee, he followed sulkily after the flowered Slim and Francis, pausing to smile and wave at Flik. "Vish us luck!"</p>
      <p>"Break a leg!" the blue clown waved back, hurrying to get to his bird. The costume's wings flapped with as much enthusiasm as he had. "Should I make bird sounds? Or will the music drown me out? What if the music isn't loud enough and I make no sounds and—"</p>
      <p>"Flik, honey, nothing's going to happen," Rosie assured him, bringing him to the curtain. "Now, just watch for your cue. And be natural, okay?"</p>
      <p>Outside, Slim pranced around, with a seemingly cheerful Francis dancing circles around him. "Tra la la la la, spring's in the air, and I'm a flower… with nothing interesting to say." His nonchalant and bored tone got some of the audience chuckling. Suddenly, they both jumped back as Heimlich flopped where they stood. "A bee!"</p>
      <p>"I am a cute little bumblebee! Here I come! Flitting srough zee meadow!" The bee gave chase after the flowers, though they were too quick for him. Huffing and puffing, the large clown began to lose momentum. "Shlow down, you flowers!"</p>
      <p>"Here I go!" Flik burst through the curtain, doing his best bird shriek, and charged towards Heimlich. He laughed as the large clown screamed and with renewed energy ran for his life. Well, it was more like he hobbled and flailed like a fish. Flik then began hopping, zig-zagging his movements and circling the wriggling bee.</p>
      <p>The crowd roared, some screaming for Heimlich to get away and some cheering for the bird to get him. Taps bounced off the tarp as popcorn launched from the front seats, maybe an attempt to save the bee from the horrifying bird. Formerly edible treats crunched under Flik's feet and he began to make a game of trying to hop on as many as he could whilst chasing Heimlich. Best of all, laughter chorused all around. There was honest-to-goodness laughter and Flik was making it happen! He began to join them, tilting the bird back as it celebrated with him, head high and beak open.</p>
      <p>Then he brought it down on Heimlich's head.</p>
      <p>Flik had to move back a bit, but there was no escaping his friend's frantic screaming. Trying to bear with ringing ears, he pushed at the handles to open the beak enough for Heimlich to jump through, but then he felt the joints catch. To his horror, the beak wouldn't open any further. "No, no, no!"</p>
      <p>"Vat's vrong?!"</p>
      <p>"It's stuck!" Flik jiggled the handles, trying to get them to come loose, but they wouldn't budge. Frustration bubbled up as he tried again and again to get the beak to open up. He had been working on this for weeks and it just had to mess up now! "C'mon! Open!"</p>
      <p>He heard the music boom, playing up the drama, trying to compete with the crowd drowning everything but their own exhilaration. Seeing shadows fall over the tarp, Flik knew that Slim and Francis were ready to intervene if anything was amiss. Their waving shadows meant they were worried, but he couldn't hear a thing they were saying. Meanwhile, Flik just panicked as the frame crackled. The bird was supposed to <em>eat</em> the bee, not choke on it!</p>
      <p>"Wait, that's it! The bird's choking on the bee!" He jerked to the side and lurched the bird forward, eliciting a collective gasp. "Pull me out as soon as I fall!"</p>
      <p>Here's to hoping Heimlich heard what he said. The audience's hilarity made it hard to hear his own voice. Flik rattled the bird, giving it enough spasms so as to give it the death throes. Finally, he fell to his knees, taking his creation with him as the music died abruptly. As the bird collapsed, Heimlich grabbed him and pulled him out through the beak, holding him high above the carcass. There was a drum roll as he began to "wake," and a trumpet played the classic "Ta-da!" music.</p>
      <p>The viewers came to life once again with applause, a sign of a show well done. For the finishing touch, Heimlich set Flik down and the two of them hunched like villains. Their fingers bent and hands became reaching claws. They smirked at Slim and Francis, who wore faces of fear as the flowers were now faced against <em>two</em> insects. They ran toward the curtain, chased by the bee and his new friend. The audience's joy and laughter saw them off.</p>
      <p>Flik was the last to leave the stage. "Whoo! Did you see that? Wasn't that amazing?!" he cheered once he was back behind the curtain. "I feel so alive!"</p>
      <p>"Good! Because you're gonna be dead!" Waving a threatening fist, Francis marched up to Flik. "We didn't rehearse any dying bird! You scared Slim to death!"</p>
      <p>Said tall man raised a knowing eyebrow. "What Francis means is that <em>we</em> were worried," he corrected with a smirk. He then gave Flik a stern look and crossed his arms. "It was funny in the end, but we were shocked when you hit the floor."</p>
      <p>Flik raised his hands in surrender. "I know, I know. I'm sorry," though there was hardly a sign of remorse on the his face. "The beak got stuck, so I had to think fast to save the act. Heimlich can vouch for me! Right, Heimlich?"</p>
      <p>"Ja, zee beak vas shtuck," nodded the large clown.</p>
      <p>"See?"</p>
      <p>The duo sighed, not quite convinced but not unbelieving either. "Just don't do it again," said the shorter of the two, still glaring.</p>
      <p>The blue clown took no heed and simply stood proudly. "Still, not bad for a first show, huh?"</p>
      <p>"And it's not over yet!" P.T. peeked in before anyone could respond. "Everyone! Finale, now!" Then he hopped out to announce the final act for the night. A few second later, everyone heard the familiar shout of "FLAMING DEATH!"</p>
      <p>"Seriously?!" Francis grouched. "We just got back!"</p>
      <p>"Already? We normally have a few more seconds."</p>
      <p>"It's not so bad," Slim chimed, though he spoke more to a confused Flik than the irritated Francis. "We clowns only need to stand by. Be sure to get the water ready."</p>
      <p>"Got it!"</p>
      <p>The troupe made it back out in a single file line, taking their places once introduced by the ringmaster. Heimlich and Francis doused a giant adhesive sheet with oil as Slim directed attention to the sheet; Tuck and Roll swung from the trapeze and landed in front of a cannon; Dim took his place on a diving board over that cannon; Manny and Gypsy set a timer to fifteen seconds; and finally Rosie waved to the audience from the highwire. Only Flik stayed out of the spotlight, filling up buckets with water and lining them up. When everything was done, all acts besides the clowns blindfolded themselves as per instructions.</p>
      <p>Now, all that was left was to watch. Flik flipped over an empty bucket and took a seat, waiting for P.T. to light the trail of gunpowder. Chances of everything going as planned were almost nil. Sometimes Tuck and Roll would argue and someone else—usually Flea—would get caught in the sheet instead. The true suspense then lied in whether or not something would go wrong, and watching the spectator's reactions was just as entertaining as seeing the finale blind.</p>
      <p>So when Tuck and Roll once again accidentally got the gunpowder lit too early, Flik watched the audience. He began to wonder then how Dot was reacting to all of this. The idea that his new friend was as shocked as everyone else did seem funny. He spotted her covering her face, yet peeking out between her fingers. The regal woman next to her, most certainly the Queen, was on the edge of her seat as well.</p>
      <p>Time slowed when his eyes fell on the young woman sitting at the Queen's right hand.</p>
      <p>The tiara on her head was a clear sign she was a princess, but all that really registered in Flik's mind was that she was beautiful. She held herself with a kind of gracefulness that seemed almost celestial. Her lavender hair was a flowing river about her heart-shaped face, and somehow a halo in the dimness of the tent. Maybe most striking was the somber and almost melancholic air about her. Flik felt a longing to talk to the Princess, to bring out a smile on her face, to hear her laugh.</p>
      <p>The world fell away completely once her eyes met his, and he saw hints of… grief? Relief? His breath hitched as he felt the spaces within him getting smaller and smaller, something foreign overflowing and somehow blocking his throat. He clenched his hand over his heart in a vain attempt to keep it from bursting. The invading feeling was both comforting and painful, more overwhelming than any therapy he had gone through. Most of all, this strange feeling was many parts hope.</p>
      <p>Maybe... just maybe…</p>
      <p>She was the one who broke contact, and reality crashed back onto Flik. The world was so loud with screams and panicked shouts for "Water! Water! Water!" At the stage, he saw his friends scrambling about with the buckets of water, but they would end up throwing it over the flames instead of on them. Those same flames were crawling toward a trapped P.T. Flea.</p>
      <p>Wait a second, Flik was supposed to be out there, too!</p>
      <p>He sprung to his feet and grabbed one of the remaining buckets of water, rushing to the gunpowder to throw water over it, but he was too late. Blinding light seared away even the sound, heating the entire room. The water evaporated immediately in the inferno, and part of him wondered if his boss could really survive it. As the fire cleared, the crowd gasped and murmured as there was no sign of the ringmaster. Just about everyone else was frozen, too. The stage was the setting of a tragedy.</p>
      <p>But then the music rose triumphant and the lights shined on P.T. being lowered to the ground by Rosie's silk. There arose cheering, applause, sighs of relief that went unheard in the euphoria, and a subtle sign to exit.</p>
      <p>This time, Flik was the first to leave. Refreshing cold air hit him and he tried to breathe as much of it in as he could. Finding a place mostly cleared of people and out of the way of exiting citizens, he leaned against a nearby pole to get his bearings. The familiar emptiness was much more prominent now that there was nothing to distract him, and it made him miss the weird feeling more and more. Soon, he found it hard to stand, and he slid to the ground.</p>
      <p>How strange. He thought he would be celebrating with his friends, listening to any comments and advice, reading written anonymous reviews from the audience. Everything went well for once, so there was really no need for him to try to hide from everyone. Maybe it was a secret fear that Manny would have to fix up his soul again. Part of Flik worried that P.T. might get a little miffed, but if he could handle Tuck and Roll not understanding a thing he said, he could probably tolerate this.</p>
      <p>"I'm fine, I'm fine. It'll pass," he repeated to himself over and over again. It never physically helped, but it gave him something to concentrate on. This emptiness was nothing new, but he'd be lying if he tried to convince himself that it wasn't one of the worst bouts he felt in a while.</p>
      <p>Images of the Princess flashed back to his mind. No, she did not look familiar at all. Nothing came to mind, no bells rung, no sights nor sounds nor any other sense. True to the curse, there were no memories of her. In spite of it all, she somehow made his soul react. It was impossible, but it was such a wonderful miracle. Just who was she that she could make him feel so complete?</p>
      <p>"Is this what falling in love feels like?" Flik mused, an undoubtedly stupid grin growing on his face. How else could he explain this turn of events? It must be love at first sight. If people could call love the most powerful force, then even a fractured soul like his could fall into its sweet influence. It was so silly, he hadn't even spoken a word, but something was there. He saw something in her eyes, too.</p>
      <p>But reality was the destroyer of dreams, and the grin disappeared. His crush was a princess, and he was a clown. Moreover, he was a cursed nobody, a nonperson of questionable existence. What were the odds that there was a chance for him?</p>
      <p>"Flik! Hey!" The clown's train of thought caught in a wreck of the century as a child's voice called to him. Lilac bounced from the corner of his eye and he turned to see Princess Dot running up to him. "You were great! Was that really your first show?"</p>
      <p>Flik gave her an appreciative smile, both for her little review and for the distraction. "Yep. There'll be more where that came from, too."</p>
      <p>"I didn't see you use the catapult, though."</p>
      <p>"That's because it's not done yet." Seeing that they were rather alone, Flik became worried. "Hey, where's your mother, Princess? Did you really run over here by yourself?"</p>
      <p>The little princess crossed her arms and pouted. Her freckles just made her look even more like an adorable little girl. "I said you can call me 'Dot,'" she huffed. "I'm okay, anyway. I'm not little; I can take care of myself."</p>
      <p>"You make being little sound like a bad thing."</p>
      <p>"Because it is!"</p>
      <p>"No, it's not."</p>
      <p>"Is too!"</p>
      <p>"Is not."</p>
      <p>"Is too!"</p>
      <p>"Is not!"</p>
      <p>"Is too, is too, is too!"</p>
      <p>"Is not, is not, is—" Flik's eyes widened as he realized he was a grown man bickering with a child. Not to mention he himself didn't appreciate being called a five-year-old anyway. What a hypocrite. "You know what? We'll get back to that."</p>
      <p>"That just means I win," the little princess bragged smugly. "So, why are you on the ground? Are you tired?"</p>
      <p>"Just a bit." Flik adjusted himself so that he didn't look so much like a slouch. "Anyway, why aren't you with your mother? It's not safe to be here, and I'm a stranger."</p>
      <p>She didn't seem fazed at all. "But you're nice. I should know. I'm a good judge of charcter."</p>
      <p>"You mean 'character?'"</p>
      <p>"Yeah, that."</p>
      <p>Flik sighed, trying not to give her a talk about stranger danger. Right now, she was not with her family and he was the only one who could help her get back to them. "C'mon, let's get you back to your mom, and then promise you won't go following every 'nice' guy." He stood up, glad that he managed to stay stable, and began walking with Dot back to the more populous areas. His mind began to bring up images of the sad-eyed Princess. "Say, Dot, who was that woman next to your mother?" He flinched, for the words had rushed out the moment he thought of her.</p>
      <p>"She's my sister: Princess Atta," replied the younger princess. Her tone was unreadable. "Do you like her?"</p>
      <p>"What?! No way. I just saw her and I—"</p>
      <p>"You like her, huh?" Dot paused, which meant Flik had to stop, too. "It's okay. A lot of people do." Her smile fell a little. "But she can't like anybody."</p>
      <p>"Huh? Why not?" O reality why must you be so cruel?</p>
      <p>"I don't know. Nobody will tell me." She looked sadly up at Flik. "I want her to be happy, though. Can you make her happy?"</p>
      <p>The clown knelt down to her level. "I'll come up with something," he told her, but he was so unsure. What would be good enough for a princess? "What kind of things does she like?"</p>
      <p>Dot put a hand to her chin. Already acting like a little thinker. "I can check her room and tell you tomorrow."</p>
      <p>"I don't think she'd appreciate that."</p>
      <p>"Dot!" someone called, causing both man and child to turn toward the voice. "Dot! Where are you?!"</p>
      <p>"It's Mom!" As if their conversation hadn't happened, the little princess brightened up. Her small legs carried her toward the regal Queen and her squad of guards, and Dot briefly looked back to wave farewell. "Bye, Flik! See you tomorrow!"</p>
      <p>Flik waved back and kept up a smile until she was out of sight. Only afterwards did he let his body become somewhat limp. He took the time to process what he had just learned. Apparently, his crush is named "Atta" and she was could not "like" anyone. Whether that meant she was not allowed to or simply could not feel attraction, Flik wasn't sure, but the hopelessness he felt just grew deeper.</p>
      <p>Tired, he returned to the tent. He'll just let everyone know he's okay, if they were worried, and then go home to work on his catapult.</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>It was late at night, everyone should be asleep, and the guards never looked into this room.</p>
      <p>"Okay, I'm ready," Atta murmured to herself and she looked her reflection up and down. She was dressed in a dark blue robe, a hood covering her head. With the moon out and shining, wearing something black would be too noticeable, too alarming, should anyone happen to look up. No, she was not leaving permanently, but she did need fresh air and space. Lots and lots of space, without any guards.</p>
      <p>The princess moved the loose stones behind her dresser, revealing a tunnel to the outside world. She cradled her box to her figure before crawling through the tunnel and closing the opening behind her, and then she opened up the other side. The air was crisp and cool, nothing like the stuffy room. Oh, she had measures let in some air, but it was nothing compared to the infinite supply that was outside.</p>
      <p>The outside opening led out below the balcony, or what used to be a balcony. It had been converted into an extension of her tower's room, and now held her bed among other things. This was so anyone who could fly would not be able to enter her room easily, but also so she wouldn't have a platform to fly off of herself. No one really counted on her developing a rebellious streak and making an opening, however.</p>
      <p>Carefully, she peeked out to ensure no one was watching nor patrolling. She waited for a few minutes, ducking back as she heard a guard pass by. Quickly, she set her box down and hung off the hole she had made, taking a deep breath and imagining wings on her back. A buzzing later, she felt weight lose its grip on her and she floated effortlessly. Behind her were light blurs like hummingbird wings. She retrieved her box, closed up the exit, and flew off into the night.</p>
      <p>Nowhere in the Anterrian capital was safe for her to land. It was not because anywhere was particularly dangerous, but because they would surely report her. After all, she was not supposed to be outside unsupervised. It was dangerous for them. Atta felt a bitterness that caused her to clutch her parcel closer to her. She never thought she would ever resent those sentiments.</p>
      <p>It was unbecoming of their Chosen Princess, after all.</p>
      <p>But she absolutely could not stay in her room tonight. In all other nights over these few years that she flew away, she could chalk them up to mere whims, but not so for tonight. Her heart was in turmoil. If she remained in her prison, she knew she would have gone mad.</p>
      <p>Atta glanced behind her to ensure the castle was still in view before looking down. She spotted a clearing complete with a lake, separated from town and the fairgrounds by a decent stretch of trees. It wasn't too far either, so she reasoned she could rush back home fairly quickly if she needed to.</p>
      <p>Her feet soon touched ground, right at the shore of the lake. It was beautiful here. The waters were painted with the stars and the moon above, but the ripples were a telltale sign that it was all simply a reflection. Fireflies danced together, seeming to rise from the lake and filling the space between land and sky with golden orbs.</p>
      <p>Atta settled herself down on a boulder embedded in the grass some distance away. Her box was set right next to her and opened, revealing white lilies within. The princess pulled out the base that the flowers rested on: a box no longer than two hands, no wider than a palm, and no taller than any common jewelry box. Embracing its sides were carefully carved green leaves and, despite the dim light, she could see that the remaining spaces were painted both lavender and sky blue. At its front was a daisy that served as both latch and knob.</p>
      <p>She smiled at the little thing, though strained at seeing how one of the lilies was clearly clumsily glued on, over and over again. Sighing, she placed her treasure on her lap, turned the daisy, and listened intently to the musical chimes that followed. The unrest in her heart began to settle with each note that the music box played. Even the world seemed to have the courtesy to remain quiet and allow her this moment. All she could hear now was the music so carefully and lovingly made just for her.</p>
      <p>Then pain followed.</p>
      <p>Atta let out an ungraceful cry and leaned forward, her hands flying to the back of her head. Her heart stopped and blood ran cold once she heard the music stop and something thud on the ground. Eyes widened in horror as she took in the sight of the music box tumbling down, lid snapped off its hinge and leaving behind flowers.</p>
      <p>"Oh no! No!" She gave chase, gathering up the pieces and grabbing the box before it touched the wet sand. The stinging behind her head felt like nothing now as she struggled to control the grief in her heart.</p>
      <p>"I'm sorry!" someone shrieked behind her and she jolted, horrified to find that she wasn't alone. Spinning around, Atta spotted a male shape running towards her, panic all over his face as "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please forgive me!" tumbled out of his mouth without breath.</p>
      <p>Alarmed, she stumbled back and tripped, the music box in its entirety flying into the waters. Now it was her turn to shriek. She scrambled into the water to try to retrieve everything before the waves could wash them away forever. A growl left her as she turned and glared at the intruder. "Don't just stand there! Help me!"</p>
      <p>Water splashed all over her as a separate set of legs and arms joined in the search. "I'm really, truly sorry!" he kept rambling. "I didn't know anybody would be here at this time."</p>
      <p>"Look, we'll talk about this later. Just find a box, a lid, and some flowers."</p>
      <p>Together, much to her relief, they did manage to retrieve everything. Atta practically snatched whatever pieces the stranger had and put everything aside to dry. The box, however, was simply ruined.</p>
      <p>"That… that was the last thing he ever gave to me," she murmured, grief slowly heating to rage, "and it's <em>broken</em>." She faced him, intending to give the culprit a piece of her mind, maybe even say things she would regret later, but—</p>
      <p>—her heart stopped.</p>
      <p>They weren't supposed to meet. Not now, not ever again. She could not go through that heartbreak again!</p>
      <p>The clown's blue eyes were wide with shock of his own. "Pr-Princess Atta!" he stammered, and she realized her hood had fallen.</p>
      <p>The princess turned to run, pulling her hood back over her head, but a desperate hand grabbed her wrist and she panicked. "Let go!" She slapped him with her free hand, an action she regretted just as soon, but she could not afford to slow down. This was to save his life!</p>
      <p>"Please…"</p>
      <p>Atta's breath hitched. Her legs refused to move any further. Slowly, she turned back towards him, and found him on the ground. His hand looked like it was trying to rip his own heart out of his chest. His face was so contorted with agony that doing so might actually help him. Even so, he managed to look up at her, as if she could save him.</p>
      <p>"Please… do you know me?"</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tastes of the Past</h2></a>
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    <p>The moon was a silent sentry over them as they sat together in the grass near the lake. Well, the Princess sat and Flik lay, his very core so painful that it was hard for him to keep breathing, much less sit up. He was grateful, however, that Princess Atta had decided to stay and watch over him until he got better. She could have easily left him and she would have been justified in doing so.</p><p>To think this all happened because he was testing his catapult. After hours of fiddling with the accursed assembly of wood, he had finally managed to get it to work on cue. Of course, no project was complete without a few tests, so he catapulted rocks of varying weights in random directions. He never thought that one of the rocks would be soaring towards the Princess herself, and that a project that finally worked perfectly would ruin something else.</p><p>Flik bit his bottom lip in remorse. "I really didn't mean to break your box."</p><p>"I told you it's fine. At least the knob works and I can still hear the music," she assured, though she remained cross. "I could probably glue some of it back together."</p><p>The clown managed to peek an eye open to look at the box, which was some distance away and drying. "I can fix it for you."</p><p>Princess Atta jolted slightly and turned her head to slightly towards him. "You s—you can fix it?"</p><p>"Yep. Good as new, too." He flashed her a confident grin.</p><p>There was silence as she went back to staring across the lake, most likely thinking about the offer. Moments became seconds became minutes, and Flik wondered why it took so long to decide. Maybe she didn't trust him? Perhaps she was scared of clowns, though he looked nothing like any clown right now.</p><p>Finally, a wry smile appeared on her face. "Fine, but I want to watch and learn how to fix it myself," she told him. "How much will I owe you?"</p><p>"Oh, it's nothing. It was my fault, anyway."</p><p>"Would you just quit it already? It's not the first time it broke." She was giggling, and mesmerizing with the moonlit halo in her hair. "Besides, I can't ask you to put your time into fixing it for free. Name your price."</p><p>"I really don't have a price."</p><p>"Then make one up."</p><p>Flik sighed. "I'll think of something, <em>Your Highness</em>." He had meant to be playful, but then he saw her grimace. "I'm sorry."</p><p>"No, don't be." Princess Atta recovered, but she now looked around him rather than at him. She put on a smile once again. "So, what do they call you?"</p><p>He was thankful for the change in topic. "My name's Flik."</p><p>Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn her face twitched. Her smile became strained as well. "Is it short for anything?" she asked, sounding awfully like she was trying to keep her voice steady.</p><p>He tried to ignore his observations and just shrugged. "Maybe. Manny said it was all he could find of my memory."</p><p>"Manny?"</p><p>"Our magician," he clarified. "I'd say he's my doctor, too. He's been treating me for as long as I can remember." Realizing what he had just said, he chuckled. He had to stop when he saw her discomfort, now more evident. "Did I say something wrong?</p><p>She shook her head. "No, no." Twiddling her fingers, she looked like she was calculating something. "When did this all start?"</p><p>Flik counted the time on his fingers. "Around five years ago. He and the rest of the troupe found me on a night just like this one." He smiled fondly as he recalled the memory, bittersweet as it was. He could have sworn he saw Princess Atta smile genuinely as well. "Somebody left me in the middle of their camp, no memories or anything. It would have been so easy to simply send me away, but they took me in like I already belonged with them." He then realized how long he had been blabbering. "Oh, but enough about me. Tell me something about you."</p><p>As if a spell was broken, her smile disappeared and she was calculating again. "Well, you know I'm a princess."</p><p>He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah."</p><p>"And that I have a sister?" She was stalling.</p><p>"Dot."</p><p>"That's right. Do you maybe know…?" she trailed off.</p><p>His curiosity got the best of him and Flik couldn't stop himself then. "You never answered my question."</p><p>She froze, eyes slightly widened. "What do you mean?" She was nervous, perhaps afraid of what was to come.</p><p>His throat began closing up. Emotions began running wild as he tried to hope and yet keep that hope down. It was such a long shot, but that shock on her face earlier had to be of recognition. <em>Please</em> let it be recognition! "Do—Did you know me? The real me? Anything from before five years ago will be enough." He dared to look into her own blue eyes, hoping to find that flash in them. "The way you looked at me, I thought… I thought you must know something. If it wasn't you..."</p><p>They stared at each other for a long time, one with growing hope and the other with… something. The Princess' breathing became uneven, like she wanted to reveal a secret but could not find it in herself to bring it out.</p><p>She finally closed her eyes and turned away. "No, I'm sorry," she sighed regrettably. "You just reminded me of someone. It happens, you know, people looking alike."</p><p>Flik's heart shattered right then. He hid his face in the grass, but he knew he was being obvious. "I-I see." He should have expected it, of course. What were the odds that a princess would know him personally? If someone hated him enough to use Dying Memory on him, there was no way a beautiful princess would even <em>know</em> who he was.</p><p>He had to pull himself together. What kind of clown would he be if he made someone feel bad? Well, he wasn't sure if Princess Atta felt bad, but she shouldn't have to see someone being this affected by disappointment. Besides, his soul was supposed to be recovering. The young man tried to push all his emotions to the back of his mind and force as natural a smile as he could. He would unearth his feelings later, and then build something to help himself feel better.</p><p>Ah, but he had a companion to be entertaining right now. Flik lifted up his head and beamed at the Princess. "Well, no sweat. I'm sure someone will pop up someday," he chirped, glad that he sounded normal. "So, what's this guy like?" He suddenly became aware that her hand was stretched towards him.</p><p>She jerked her hand back and blushed. "W-what?"</p><p>Flik felt his cheeks warm up as well. "Um… The person I remind you of," he clarified, trying to pay no mind to a few seconds ago. "Di-did he make your music box?"</p><p>"...how did you know?"</p><p>"Just a guess." He looked back at the box, trying to memorize the design and the colors. Looking closely, after filtering out the silvery moonlight, he saw that the shade of purple on the box matched Princess Atta's hair. "He must have put a lot of care into it."</p><p>There was that beautiful smile again, but it was so different as well. It was much sadder, yet even warmer. "He really did." Her hands clasped together as she looked up towards the stars. "I think it's his very best work."</p><p>There was no way Flik could compete with the man who could make Princess Atta smile like a maiden in love. "He sounds very special to you," he said as he closed his eyes and relaxed into the grass.</p><p>She didn't reply. It must have been a sore spot.</p><p>The seconds passed quietly by, counted by the soft waves and singing crickets around them. Occasionally, the grass would rustle, shivering from the chilly wind disrupting summer air. He entertained the idea of this being a romantic night, if only just for a moment.</p><p>He heard a more active rustle as the Princess moved. "How are you feeling?" she inquired.</p><p>Now that he remembered why they were still here, the clown realized he was no longer in pain. "Much better, actually." He sat up, taking a deep breath and relishing the chilly air and lack of pain in his chest.</p><p>"I'm sorry for slapping you."</p><p>He had completely forgotten about that, though it didn't really bother him. His cheek didn't even sting anymore, and it surely won't bruise. "Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have grabbed your arm like that."</p><p>"It's fine. So, do you think you can make it back on your own?"</p><p>"Yeah, I think so."</p><p>"Good, because I need to be going," she told him. Following was the faint sound of wood clattering. She must be putting her things away. "Can I trust you to be here tomorrow night?"</p><p>"W-what?!" Flik's eyes shot open and he stared at a very amused Princess Atta. "You want me to get started <em>tomorrow</em>?"</p><p>"Well, of course. I want this fixed as soon as possible."</p><p>"O-o-okay. I'll be sure to bring my tool chest. Oh, maybe I should restock on paints. Actually, yes, I'll buy paints..." He mumbled his plans and ideas while picking himself off the ground and brushing off as much grass as he could. "Uh… Would you like me to escort you home?"</p><p>Princess Atta stiffened a bit. "No, we really shouldn't be seen together. I'm not even supposed to be outside, much less here," she admitted, looking away.</p><p>"What a coincidence. I'm not supposed to be out either." Flik rolled his eyes. Ever since he had told everyone that he wanted to go home instead of celebrate, they had all but confined him to his room. His nearly unbearably tiny room. "But isn't it dangerous to be out on your own?"</p><p>"Don't worry about me. This isn't the first time I snuck out, and I can fly." To prove her point, she closed her eyes in focus. Moments later, translucent wings sprouted behind her and began buzzing, lifting her off the ground.</p><p>Flik couldn't say he was stunned, but he was still impressed. "Wow, I wish I could fly!" It was as if someone flipped a switch and he became excited. "So many people I know can: Manny, Gypsy, Francis—Heimlich says he can fly too, but I've never seen him actually do it—" He was stopped as a hand clamped over his mouth.</p><p>Princess Atta gave him a nervous and urgent frown. "That's enough for today."</p><p>Sheepish, he moved her hand away. "Oh, right." He backed off hurriedly, trying not to focus on how hot his face was getting. Think of something else, he told himself, like how they were the same height, or that they'll see each other the next night. "Tomorrow, then? Well, technically tonight, but it's going to be the next—"</p><p>She had to interrupt him again. "Yes. Tomorrow. Don't tell anyone about this, okay?" She pulled her hood over her head, waved farewell and then swiftly took off into the sky, almost melting into the dark blue above them.</p><p>He waved back even long after she had gone, and then let his hand dangle heavily at his side. Having someone new to talk to and probably confide in was rather nice. That someone being his crush was even nicer, and he already missed her company.</p><p>With a sigh, Flik forced his legs to move in the direction of the caravans. He did take a detour to pick up his little catapult, which he had dropped once he learned he accidentally hit Princess Atta. He found it lying rather pitifully under a blueberry bush. Thankfully, it wasn't broken, though he wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing. He gave the contraption a half-smile, half-frown. "The one time you work and you go and break something," he admonished as if it was his child. Shaking his head as he would if it responded, he disarmed it and carried it off with him.</p><p>Once he reached home and got past the door, his steps slowed and he would press on every spot of wood he happened to step on before moving forward. If he wasn't careful, the wood could creak and disturb his roommates. The catapult was painstakingly set on a couch and he dragged himself into the crawl space that was his room. Miraculously, all of this was done silently, or maybe the crickets outside drowned everything out. Flik breathed as soon as he was under his covers, freezing when he heard creaking above him. It took some moments before he let his eyelids close and he let himself drift off to sleep.</p><p>His last thought for the night was a realization that he felt complete.</p>
<hr/><p>When daylight came, the fairgrounds were once again filled with singles, couples, or groups of various numbers. Today was a tad bit more crowded, perhaps due to the word of mouth from the first-day participants that drew in more guests. In fact, it could be hard to move with so many people pushing and shoving to get to as many attractions as they could within the day.</p><p>It was a good thing Flik was so thin. He chuckled to himself as Francis' off-color rants became fainter and fainter, with everyone getting left behind in the wave of people. Slim could probably be the only one to get through and catch up to the amnesiac, but his being around eight feet tall also made it easier for him to lose his balance. All in all, they were disadvantaged and Flik was certain he could avoid them for a little longer, maybe long enough to spend an actual day at the market. Given that the clowns had previews to do today, that meant at least two of them would have to give up searching soon, too.</p><p>This time, he had settled on a dirt brown cap to hide his hair. Sure, blue hair was common in these parts, but he found it was so with brown caps as well, and he didn't want his friends recognizing the top of his head. This should be a testament to how normal these little games of chase were.</p><p>He sprinted through the town as soon as he had the space to, sometimes looking at the sky in case Francis found the opportunity to fly after him. Even if he did, though, he wouldn't be able to lift Flik off the ground. Not many flyers can lift up the unwilling, for their bones could only hollow with consent, and a runaway would definitely be unwilling.</p><p>"Flik!" The runaway nearly tripped, stopping in his tracks to look around. Who called him? "Flik! Wait up!"</p><p>His eyes widened as he saw the small princess dashing towards him. "Dot?! What are you doing here?" Looking around, he saw that they were farther from the castle than yesterday. "Please tell me you didn't come here all by yourself."</p><p>"Nope, I'm being watched," she groaned, fiddling with one of her twintails. "I just convinced them to keep their distance." She pointed to the small squadron a ways away, of which one guard waved before another elbowed him.</p><p>Flik side-eyed nothing in particular. "Huh. I wish I could get my friends to do that," he muttered.</p><p>"So, why aren't you practicing at the fair?"</p><p>"Oh, I'm not performing with the others today."</p><p>"Why?" the little princess pressed, disappointed.</p><p>"I'm kind of the new guy, so I'm just a backup for the others. That is, until the boss is sure I won't make rookie mistakes." He scratched the back of his neck, chuckling sheepishly. "Since today is a day off for me, I'm heading to the market. I need to buy some paints for… something."</p><p>"For your catapult?"</p><p>"No, I'm done with that." He glanced at the guards and then looked around to make sure no one else could hear. Then he whispered: "Can you keep a secret?"</p><p>"Yeah!"</p><p>"I broke something really important." At Dot's widened eyes, he added: "It was an accident, I swear! But I'm trying to fix it as good as new, which probably includes repainting."</p><p>"What did you break? Whose is it?"</p><p>He shook his head. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone."</p><p>"Aw…" Understandably, she was displeased, but she recovered quickly. "Then let's go together! I can show you the whole marketplace. Maybe we can try some blueberry-filled rolls, too. You'll love them!" She took his hand and began leading him towards the direction of the marketplace. "What color paints do you need?"</p><p>"Purple, blue, some white to make them lighter, green..." He briefly considered getting an entire set, but the lightness in his pockets dispatched the thought. For the time being, he couldn't afford anything more.</p><p>"Why do those colors sound familiar?"</p><p>Because they were the colors of Princess Atta's music box, but Flik held his tongue. If she didn't want anybody finding out that they had met, he didn't want to know how she would feel if her own sister knew.</p><p>"You're quiet."</p><p>"I was just thinking. Which shop sells paints?"</p><p>"Oh! Oh! I know which one!"</p><p>The little princess practically dragged him to a white stall that was splattered in willy-nilly colors, and then away once he had bought all that he needed. They proceeded to visit every stall afterwards for nothing more than fun. At every other step, Flik heard shoppers marveling at thingamabobs or complaining about how high some remarkably low prices were. Just about every place had a shopkeeper calling for them to sample their products, whether it was food, a collectible trinket, or everyday utensils. He took particular interest in the blacksmith's stall, and he probably would have bought as many tools as he could if he wasn't on a meager budget. At least he did walk away with a new wrench.</p><p>All the while, Dot didn't let go of his hand. Whenever they stopped in front of a shop, she would grab the nearest thing to her and explain it like a tour guide. "And this is an ant farm. Look! This spot has a lot of eggs in it!" she had chattered when they stopped at a pet stall. Of course, given her age, sometimes she would look to him for help once she reached something she didn't know, like a telescope. "Ooh! Atta has a green one of these! It's a… a..."</p><p>"Telescope."</p><p>"Yeah! That! This one looks a whole lot better than Atta's, though." She looked around as if her sister was nearby, and then hushed her voice. "She doesn't like when I say that, so it's our secret, okay?" She made a zipping motion over her mouth, obviously wanting him to do the same. "Zip!"</p><p>"Zip." It was cute, like she was the little sister he never had.</p><p>It was late afternoon, when the sun was halfway down towards the horizon, when they finally left the market and headed to the fountain square. Their last stop was the bakery at the square, which was full of patrons today. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread, sugar, chocolate, various berries, all mixed together to create a symphony of sweet aroma.</p><p>Once they bought the rolls that Dot liked so much, blueberry became the strongest scent. Sitting outside on a bench under a curtain-like tree, the two of them partook in the treats. Flik never thought he would like a bread roll as much as he did right now. The bread melted as soon as he took a bite; the texture and taste of freshly crushed berries poured out from the cloud-soft prison. It was all over too soon, but they thankfully did buy multiple rolls.</p><p>The small princess giggled next to him. "I knew you'd love them." She cleaned her face and then leaned her head back against the bench, resting comfortably as if with someone she knew all her life. Then her blue eyes blinked up at Flik. "Can I tell you a secret?"</p><p>"Sure. What's on your mind?"</p><p>Without hesitation, she confessed: "You remind me of somebody." He winced at that and his hand started towards his heart, but Dot grabbed it and pulled it away. "I mean it, though. It's not a mistake like Mr. Soil's was. I can't remember exactly what that somebody looked like, or what his name was, but I just have a feeling."</p><p>He struggled not to get his hopes up a third time. "I-is that so?"</p><p>"Mm-hm! He was really nice, like you!" she chirped, her grin widening. "He was the only one who would spend time with me even when he was supposed to be done with work." She grabbed another blueberry roll and held it up like it was the discovery of the century. "We shared these too, but he liked seed bread better. Seed bread! They don't even taste sweet!"</p><p>"I dunno, it sounds fun. It's like eating baby plants."</p><p>"Bread doesn't become plants!"</p><p>"The seeds do," Flik quipped with a slight smirk. "Bread comes from plants anyway. First, you plant the seeds, then they grow into wheat, then you grind the wheat into flour and bake it and ta-da! You get bread!"</p><p>Dot looked both interested and bored, somehow. It made sense, seeing as she was a child and probably would never grow wheat nor bake bread herself. "Uh… right." She closed her eyes, probably to recuperate.</p><p>Maybe it would help if he traced back to their previous topic. "So, what else can you tell me about this guy?"</p><p>"Hm… He didn't treat me like a princess," she answered, her tone becoming soft and even a little sad. "No matter what we did, he didn't act like it was a job. I remember telling him I wished he was my big brother, and he was happy."</p><p>"I see."</p><p>"Maybe that's why I like you, too," said the princess as she peered up at her companion. "You act like you're my big brother."</p><p>The amnesiac gave her a fond smile. "It'd be nice if I was."</p><p>Nothing more came after that. They both sat together, eating the remaining blueberry rolls, watching blue sky slowly melt into pink, and listening to an orchestra of serenading birds and flowing fountain. If not for Dot's very recognizable appearance, they looked just like siblings going out and enjoying themselves.</p><p>Seeing the sky turn darker and darker, Flik stood up and dusted off the crumbs. "It's about time for me to head back."</p><p>"Will you come tomorrow?"</p><p>"Sorry, I can't. If everything goes right tonight, I'll be doing midday shows with my friends, and then I'll perform at night. The act I'll be a part of will be a surprise."</p><p>"Then I'll come watch! Don't worry, I won't be alone."</p><p>"You better promise me."</p><p>She made a cross motion over her heart. "I promise."</p><p>"Good. 'Til we meet again!" After a dramatic bow, they parted ways, and he made sure she was safe with her guards before rushing out of the square.</p><p>As he made it to the edge of the plaza, he heard an angry voice above him. "Flik! I'm comin' to getcha and you better let me pick you up!" He lifted up his arms to make it easier for Francis to grab him, and just as soon felt his bones become much lighter before the ground fell away from under him. There was no need to look up to see the clown was scowling at him. "You know, one of these days, you're gonna get us fired."</p><p>Flik winced, feeling guilty at once. "Did you really spend all day looking for me?"</p><p>"We all took turns. It's a good thing there's so many of us and only one of you."</p><p>"Hah, yeah, good thing." He was expecting a long rant, but nothing came, only the bubbling flaps that was Francis' signature flight sound. Confused by the pause, Flik looked up at the clown. "What? No lecture?"</p><p>"I'm not gonna waste my breath," Francis replied with a sigh. "Just tell me you weren't by yourself all day."</p><p>"I was with Dot," the amnesiac said, as if being accompanied by a child was valid supervision. "Well, her guards were there too, but they stayed out of the way."</p><p>"No jerk from yesterday?"</p><p>Flik glared up at him. "Hey, that isn't nice."</p><p>"<em>I'm</em> not nice."</p><p>"Good point." The remorse began to settle, tapping its foot on his heart. It wasn't going to let up until he addressed that he wasted everyone's time. "I'm sorry. I didn't think I'd worry everyone like that. I just—"</p><p>"You feeling better today?"</p><p>The uncharacteristically soft tone and sudden change of topic caught him off guard. "What?"</p><p>Francis glanced down at him. "You were kind of out of it yesterday, but you seem happier now."</p><p>After giving the observation some thought, he then nodded a little. "Yeah, I guess I feel all right." His spirits rose and he beamed upon realizing that he didn't feel that haunting emptiness. Sure, he didn't feel quite complete, but he knew he was getting there. "I feel all right! I don't feel all that empty! Do you know what this means?!"</p><p>He swore he saw his friend smile just a little. "I guess we can let you off for today."</p>
<hr/><p>Atta collapsed onto her bed, but she felt no better nor was she relieved. Today was very suffocating: spent in lessons with cold teachers, in walls of guards who seemed more metal than people, and in a chamber that she did not have the freedom to leave at will. The air around her was always thick and stuffy, with no place for her to spread her wings, metaphorically. This had been her life for most of her twenty years, a lonely existence solely due to her being a Chosen Princess.</p><p>Therein rose that bitterness once again. She had never liked the title before, but she had grown to loathe it over the course of five years. Her whole life had been molded and controlled by that distinction, and she learned the hard way what happens when she stepped out of line.</p><p>Many tried to assure her that she was blessed, for she was one of two Chosen destined to restore their world with their union. The two of them would be immortalized and celebrated, just like many Chosen pairs before them. Instead, Atta was convinced she was doomed to be eternally bound to someone whom she (and many others) despised. The more she thought of it, the more she told herself it was not worth saving a paranoid and ungrateful world.</p><p>But sky-blue eyes and a pure smile always brought her back from the brink.</p><p>Her ears filled with a faint song which only she and her destined could hear, but it was nothing more than mockery to her. It taunted her, a constant reminder of her set future. Looking out her window, she glared at the offender: a floating castle in the sky that they called the Middle Ground. The gleaming white castle, with its sharp shapely spires tipped with royal blue and gold, looked like something out of a fairy tale, but it was the bane of her existence. It was this very thing that doomed her since birth, and would someday be her end.</p><p>The song of the Middle Ground faded as the sun slipped out of sight. Atta reached under her bed, desperate to hear something else, something that she knew would drown out the accursed requiem and bring her peace. Her hands grasped her music box, but her heart was heavy as she was forced to hear her broken treasure rattle at every movement. She had been so careful to keep its condition the same as it was the day she had gotten it, but the saying that nothing lasts forever just had to apply even to this.</p><p>When certain that no one would come by, the princess dared to turn the flowerless knob. A crooked smile formed as she heard the beloved melody come out, still unharmed after the tumble. The melancholy of the hopeful chimes resonated more in the ruined shelter they called home, but the appreciative joy they embodied still somehow pulled through.</p><p>"At least I still have <em>your</em> song," Atta whispered, but she could not convince herself. Her eyes welled with tears and her teeth ground together in a vain attempt to push down her anguish. It seemed so silly to cry over a music box, but she could still clearly feel the love of the one who made it, and so it was precious.</p><p>As she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the very first time it fell into her hands. She heard the squeaking of the flap at the door as she opened it, and the clatter of the food tray going through. The music box had been with her supper, hidden under a rectangular silver dome, just like many other gifts he had slipped in. She could see the wide yet shy grin of the servant boy as he urged her to turn the flower knob...</p><p>The fantasy died once she recalled the sound of frantic guards and screaming. All that was left of him now were his gifts and the sham.</p><p>"No, I shouldn't think of him like that," Atta scolded herself.</p><p>When she thought back to that boy, she felt an awful weight in her heart, remembering the pain and desperation on his face when he had fallen. He wasn't supposed to be suffering like that. He should have been living normally, given a second chance. Has he lived like that all these years?</p><p>And that name he carried… the very sound of it felt like a stab, like a label declaring to the world he was discarded. "What a horrible name."</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Prelude to Truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the sand, well out of reach of the waves and well away from the grass, a campfire crackled and warmed the two bodies sitting by it. Under the crescent moon, with the crickets chirping and fireflies glowing around them, this seemed like the perfect setting for a romantic date. However, the couple wasn't quite a couple and they were using the fire for work rather than for mere warmth and atmosphere.</p><p>Pausing in his work, Flik breathed in the crisp forest air, cool and refreshing after being by the fire for so long. He and Princess Atta must have been working on the music box for about an hour or two, and they did have plenty of night left. Tonight was the first night of work, and he had decided that they would begin painting the box. If there was time left, they could reattach the lid. As for the flowers, he had an idea; but he needed the Princess' consent, because it involved modifying the lilies (which he learned were made of stone). Whatever the decision, he at least had everything they needed in his tool chest.</p><p>In his hands, he held the bottom part of the music box and a brush with some lavender paint. The box itself was resting on his palm so his fingers would not get in the way of nor mess up the new coat of color. He gave it a few swipes with the brush before carefully setting it down on a metal plate to dry, as he just finished repainting. "How're you holding up, Princess?" he asked his temporary helper, who was working on the lid.</p><p>"Almost… there!" The lid soon joined its partner on the plate. "How long do we need to wait? Will we be able to finish this today?"</p><p>He had to refrain from chuckling, but it was funny to see the normally graceful Princess so impatient. "We just started. I can probably reattach the lilies to the lid tonight, but I might have to modify them a bit."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"I have some ideas on how to better keep them on the box," he began to explain. "I may have to cut and sand off some of the bottom portions of the lilies. The problem before was that they had very little surface area glued on the lid."</p><p>"I-I see." Princess Atta stared at the fire, her eyes seeming faraway.</p><p>Flik understood her hesitance. He could tell the flowers were personally sculpted, and by her special person. "I could just glue them back as is, but they could still easily fall off, and putting a bunch of glue on them for better grip wouldn't look good." He looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry. I can't think of much else right now."</p><p>"No, it's fine. Do what you have to," she told him. "It's just… I already told you it's the last thing he—my friend, that is—made for me. I don't want to change it, but I guess it's too late if it's broken." She let out a little laugh, but it wasn't very cheerful. "You'll make it look good, right?"</p><p>"Of course!" he assured eagerly. "I won't remove too much. They're a bit too long and too close together, anyway." Reaching into his tool chest, he pulled a sculpting knife and some sand paper.</p><p>"Should I work on one, too?"</p><p>"I'll do it all. I don't want you to end up blaming yourself if you slip." Grabbing a lily, he began scraping the bottom little by little. He felt his heart beat along with every scritch-scratch, and he used this to time his strokes. "You can watch, though. Wanna sit closer?"</p><p>"I-I can see just fine from here."</p><p>He sent a playful pout her way. "Aw, okay." His attention soon returned to the lily. "Now, for sculpting, patience is of utmost key..." The lily shortened more and more with every instructional sentence, until it became a much more natural size and shape. "Done! Here, paint this while I get started on another."</p><p>Cleaning her brush and coating it with white, Princess Atta took the lily and got to work immediately.</p><p>Only the crackling fire and scritch-scratching knife conversed, but Flik started to become restless. "You know, this would go much quicker if we had something to talk about."</p><p>Once again, the Princess seemed dodgy. "Shouldn't you concentrate on your work?"</p><p>"Don't worry, I won't mess up," he promised. "I've already had enough of silence, anyway. Having someone to talk to really is a good way to pass work and time."</p><p>"You're telling me you won't get too distracted?"</p><p>'I won't! I'll be very careful with your memento!" He cut and scraped very carefully, eying the bases and measuring them in his head.</p><p>A few minutes passed by before he heard the sound of stone on metal plate, followed by the Princess' voice: "Give me the last one."</p><p>"Hm? Don't worry! I'll handle it."</p><p>"I want to do it," she insisted, reaching for the last flower between them. "Do you have a spare knife?"</p><p>"In my tool chest, but you can take this one." He turned the blade down and reached it out to her. "Are you sure, though? I really can work on all three."</p><p>"I'll have you check it over." Carefully, she took the handle.</p><p>In the firelight, he saw blemishes on her hands, calluses that surely did not belong on the hand of a princess. Not completely noticeable, of course, but the rough white patches were there. Her fingers even brushed over his, and they felt mildly stiff. This hand that took the knife was a crafter's hand.</p><p>"Huh," he breathed in awe.</p><p>All too soon, Princess Atta drew back. "What is it?"</p><p>"You've got rough hands." Seeing her shock, and realizing what he just said, Flik nearly dropped the unfinished lily in his hands. "N-n-not that there's anything wrong with that! I mean, they're still lovely, strong hands!" he sputtered, and the better part of his mind told him he was just making things worse. "Just—just forget I said that. Oh man, why did I go and say that?" He hid his face in his hands, expecting the worst.</p><p>He heard laughter instead.</p><p>Peeking through his fingers, he saw her hugging her stomach as she laughed at him. In his confusion, his hands dropped to the sand. "Pr-Princess?"</p><p>"Yes?" she managed between giggles.</p><p>He didn't know whether to feel worried or relieved. "You're not mad?"</p><p>"Should I be?" she teased.</p><p>"Well, I mean—"</p><p>"You're fine, really," she interrupted, looking at her hands. "They are pretty rough, huh? Crafting will do that to you."</p><p>Flik perked up, getting excited at there being a kindred soul. "You craft?"</p><p>"Not as well as you can, but yes." Now calmed down, Princess Atta started carving the flower.</p><p>"What things have you made?" He leaned toward her, giving her his full attention.</p><p>"Mostly wood carvings, but…" she paused, considering her next words. "I made a telescope once."</p><p>Dot's words about a green telescope came to mind and Flik chuckled to himself. "I'd love to see it." He took the spare sculpting knife from his tool chest and went back to work. With this one, he had to be more careful, for it was duller than the other. "So, how did you get into crafting? It's definitely not easy to start."</p><p>Her voice became just a little shaky. "It wasn't, but I managed." As if to show off, she sped up until the lily noticeably shortened and compared it to the finished one. The satisfied smile on her face and the relieved sigh got Flik's heart beating.</p><p>He felt a strange warmth in his chest, a hint of something he never felt before, but knew had always belonged there. "Wow… You're a natural!"</p><p>"Not really. I just had a lot of free time." She shrugged as she went on to add the finishing touches to her lily. "Yet, despite it all, I have yet to make a music box of my own."</p><p>Flik glanced at the drying box, eying the knob. "What song does it play?"</p><p>A pause followed, and then, "I don't have a name for it yet."</p><p>"No name? It's an original?"</p><p>She nodded rather distractedly. "Mm-hm."</p><p>"Well, why not name the song after your friend?" he suggested.</p><p>Princess Atta shook her head. "It doesn't fit." To clarify, she added: "It's a beautiful and simple song, but it just doesn't fit his name."</p><p>He couldn't agree nor disagree, because he didn't even know the creator's name, so all he could do was keep working. "Then, how about 'For Princess Atta?'" he supplied. "If nothing else, he made it for you, right? Or did you make the tune and he just put it into a box?"</p><p>"His idea," she answered simply, "but I don't like that name either." After a bit of sanding, and comparing the lilies again, she finally put the knife down and began to paint the flower. "I want it to mean something more than just a memento or a gift."</p><p>Flik chuckled as he himself traded his knife for a paintbrush and dipped it in white. "You sure take this naming stuff seriously."</p><p>Somehow, the lighthearted air between them died down, but the Princess only looked contemplative. She never stopped painting, but she seemed less focused and the brush even painted her fingers from time to time. Maybe it was a mistake to try to joke about her choosing names. If not for the waves, crickets, or the crackling fire, the silence would have been unbearable.</p><p>Finally, she hummed and began to work more precisely. "Well, of course. Names are so much more than labels." Once she finished painting, she set the flower on the metal plate. Her eyes lingered on the drying pieces. "Your feelings, your hopes, and everything around you can influence the choice." She then faced her companion. "On top of that, our own names are our very first gifts. That's why I'm so picky about them. I want to give something truly meaningful."</p><p>All the while, Flik listened in awe. "Wow… I never would have thought of all that."</p><p>Her beautiful, nostalgic smile returned. "I wouldn't have either, if I never met him." She brought her knees to her chest and rested her arms on them, staring out across the lake.</p><p>Flik finished painting the lily and set it with the others. "Did your friend teach you that philosophy?"</p><p>"No," she said tersely. "He just inspired me."</p><p>"So, what's his name?" When her smile disappeared, Flik wondered: "Did you forget it?"</p><p>In an instant, she glared at him. "I would never forget!" she snapped, causing him to flinch. She then gasped and looked away. "Sorry."</p><p>"D-don't worry about it." Flik was glad his hands were empty, for they shook from the sudden outburst. Princess Atta was quite scary when she was mad.</p><p>She let out a frustrated sigh. "You've probably guessed by now that he's gone," she confessed, her voice oddly steady. "That's why I can't tell you his name. It's all I have left of him."</p><p>Confused, he asked: "What about your music box?"</p><p>"That was for me. Whatever he made for me was supposed to belong to me," she continued. "His name can never be mine. Do you see what I mean?"</p><p>Flik nodded, feeling sympathy for her. "I understand." He smiled sadly, both jealous of and happy for this mystery man. "You loved him, didn't you?"</p><p>Again, Princess Atta kept quiet.</p><p>The two stayed this way for a long time, just sitting together on the sand while the paint dried. No one made a move to try to put anything together, even though they probably could have finished the box that night. Even when the fire died, neither moved to start it up again, leaving them both to the mercy of the chilled air.</p><p>At last, Princess Atta stood and gathered the pieces. "Um..."</p><p>"Yes?" Flik gave her his undivided attention.</p><p>She opened her mouth and closed it, averted her eyes yet bore into his, but had no words. After a while, she let out a defeated breath. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Promise you'll be here."</p><p>"Definitely!"</p><p>The Princess gave him a final, thankful grin before she flew off into the night.</p>
<hr/><p>Flik could barely pay attention to what the boss was saying. Here, in the backstage, everyone had gathered for a meeting about production over the past couple of days. It was one of the more important meetings, and the whole troupe had to attend, so here he sat on one of the boxes arranged into a circle around P.T. Flea.</p><p>The ringmaster certainly didn't look pleased, but he was still in one of his better moods. "...need to come up with some changes around here. We aren't the worst, but that's not good enough." He took out a stack of papers. "Here's feedback from the audience for the past couple of days." Clearing his throat, be began to read, starting with Rosie.</p><p>At this point, Flik just blanked. He brought a knee up and rested his chin on it. Seems that this will take a while, especially given how large the stack was, so he could sneak some moments of sleep.</p><p>"FLIK!" shrieked P.T., causing the mechanic to jolt awake. "Pay attention! Once the meeting is over, you can sleep!"</p><p>"Y-yessir, I'm listening!" He wanted to hide his face when he heard chuckling from the others.</p><p>"Good, 'cause it's your turn." P.T. huffed and straightened the papers. "You got a lot to do this time around, so you better not run off anymore. Got it?"</p><p>"Sure, but what's the job?"</p><p>"I'm not wastin' my time tellin' ya again. I'll let the rest of you repeat." P.T. flipped the papers and then set them down. "Now that we got it outta the way, listen! We got off to a pretty good start. Don't ruin it! I fired you all once, I can do it again." He then gestured toward the entrance. "All right, get outta here."</p><p>Flik was about to follow the clowns out, but a hand on his shoulder caught his attention. "What's up?" He followed the arm and saw Manny there.</p><p>"Come have a walk with us," said the magician, guiding him along.</p><p>"But I'm supposed to join the guys today."</p><p>"Yes, after lunch." Gypsy slid up to the two, casually floating along. "I'm sure you can spare a stroll."</p><p>A walk along the forest path did sound nice. "Sure." Flik followed the couple into the neighboring woods.</p><p>The trees and bushes were a beautiful deep green only fitting of the summer, lit up by the warm sunlight speckled through the leaves. Curious squirrels raced along tree trunks or watched the strangers passing by, chattering as if gossiping about them. Small birds were more courageous, going as far as to fly around Gypsy and twitter at her feathers, maybe wondering if she was a strange bird herself.</p><p>Giggling, she waved them away. "Time flies by so quickly, doesn't it?" she mused, turning toward Flik. "It seems just yesterday you were dashing to and fro, asking what everything was. Now, you're a grown man."</p><p>He gave her a small smile. "Well, I wasn't exactly a child when you found me."</p><p>Blinking, Gypsy turned her focus back onto the path. "That's true, but you were still quite young." Her shoulders slumped a little, but she showed no other sign of gloom. "Your life had just begun, yet you lost so much…"</p><p>Biting his lip in discomfort, Flik sought to lighten the mood. "Oh, it's not so bad!" he assured her. "Without my old memories, the trauma is gone, too. Besides, I didn't lose <em>everything</em>." He pressed a thumb to where his heart was. "I've got my name! Sure, it's just a few pieces, but it's something."</p><p>Last night's conversation surfaced to his mind, and he began to wonder about his real name. He liked his current one, of course; it was perky and fit him well, but it was a fragment of what it used to be. Did it have a meaning? Did it at least sound fitting? What would the one who named him—his mother or father, probably—think upon finding out that he couldn't remember? Was that person even still out there?</p><p>"Huh… What <em>was</em> my real name?" he wondered aloud. "Do you think it had a good meaning?"</p><p>Gypsy hummed, putting a hand to her chin in thought. "That's new—asking about meaning, anyway. What brought this up?"</p><p>Now he stiffened. He had to be very careful, or else they'd find out about the late night meetings. "It's just… something I heard when I was out one day," he told her as naturally as he could. "Names are the first gifts we get, right? My parents must have given some thought into mine, and it's kinda sad that it's gone." He was relieved when the couple gave each other knowing gazes before giving him a sympathetic one.</p><p>Manny coughed into his sleeve, clearing his throat. "In that case, when your soul is stronger, we can take you to the Anterrian registry."</p><p>Flik became alert. "Really?"</p><p>"Of course, my boy. When you are able, you should be allowed to learn about your past." His golden eyes, however, were very serious. "But you may—will find a painful story, that much is clear. It can very well change you."</p><p>Gypsy nodded in agreement. "Yes. From what we know about Dying Memory, you went through something unbearable." She fidgeted her fingers before taking her husband's hand for support. "Maybe it's better not to know."</p><p>Now that they were warning him, Flik did feel trepidation. He'd already guessed that his past was a sad one, but it may even be worse than he thought. Did he really want to know what kind of person he was? For all he knew, he really could have been a criminal; he might have even hurt people. If that was the truth...</p><p>He steeled himself. Having lived these years in the dark, he could not stand being afraid anymore. "It does sound scary," he admitted, "but it's still my past. If I don't know it, I can't move on. I can't work on something that isn't there." More than anything, he wanted to <em>know</em>.</p><p>"It is settled. Tomorrow, after your therapy, we can go."</p><p>As if by a switch, Flik grew excited again. "You mean it?!" He threw his hands into the air. "Finally! Progress!" he shouted to the sky, not caring who could hear.</p><p>Tomorrow, everything was going to change.</p>
<hr/><p>Perplexed and irritated at having walked all this way for nothing, Francis tapped his foot on the ground. "What do you mean you aren't sellin' any more cakes?"</p><p>The baker shrugged, quickly becoming put off by the volatile customer. "I'm sorry, ma'am—"</p><p>The poor fellow made a mistake.</p><p>"MA'AM?! Why, I oughtta—"</p><p>Turning Francis around, Slim pushed him toward the door. "Let me handle this." He then faced the baker and gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry about him. Now, what seems to be the matter?"</p><p>The baker shrugged again. "I simply don't have the resources. Egg deliveries have stopped now," he explained, sounding quite embarrassed. "Rumor has it the local farmers just can't get their chickens to lay any more eggs. Without eggs, I can't make cakes. If this keeps up, I would have to conserve wheat to survive the coming months."</p><p>The tall clown nodded in understanding. "So, it's that time." It was rather troubling that the world had already begun to decline, but only the royal families of Anterria and Grascae can restore it. Everyone else had to pray for a future. "Such is the world we live in."</p><p>"Yes. I'm truly sorry about all this. If the Union goes well this time, we should be right as rain next year." Quickly, the baker looked around his shop and toward the entrance before hushing his voice. "Though, if I must be honest, I fear for the future. The Sky King is nefarious and five years ago—"</p><p>Not one for gossip, Slim excused himself. "Ah, well, I wish you the best. Good day." He stepped back outside, where his friends waited. "So, as it turns out, he's out of eggs."</p><p>Heimlich was quite distraught. "Vat kind of party has no cake? Vee can't go back like zis!"</p><p>"Now, now, we don't need cake to have a birthday party," Slim assured. "We just need to explain this to the others and figure out what to do."</p><p>"Explain what?" a child's voice piped, causing the men to look for its source. They saw a familiar little girl next to Francis. "You're Flik's friends, aren't you?"</p><p>"Hey, whatcha doin' out here, Princess?" Francis asked, quickly calmed down. "Flik isn't goin' out today."</p><p>"Call me 'Dot,'" the Anterrian princess insisted. "And I know he's busy. I just came here to buy some bread." She held up a little wicker basket topped with a pink bow. "So, what do you need?"</p><p>Before Slim and Francis could answer, Heimlich chimed: "A cake!"</p><p>Dot tilted her head. "Cake?"</p><p>Francis sighed. "The kid's birthday is tomorrow. Or adopt… day—you get the idea."</p><p>"But the baker can no longer acquire eggs," Slim added quickly. "In preparation of the future, we may have to forego the cake."</p><p>The young princess simply smiled, quirking an eyebrow. "Well, if you need a cake, I can get the royal baker to make one," she offered.</p><p>Slim knelt down. "You're quite generous, Your Highness—"</p><p>"Dot!"</p><p>"Ah, yes, Dot. Anyway, that's very generous of you, but we can't impose."</p><p>"It's a gift!" she insisted, pointing her hand to the air as if in revelation. "You won't stop me from giving a friend a gift, right?"</p><p>And they were at a loss. They looked to each other while Dot just smirked triumphantly. The way she quickly came up with the idea was uncannily similar to a certain someone's…</p><p>"That... solves our problem," Francis reasoned slowly.</p><p>"Und zere vill be cake," Heimlich agreed.</p><p>Slim weighed everything. The ingredients used for the cake could be used instead to prepare for the months after the Union. Relief from a period of shortage far outweighed the cost of a cake, but the princess was likely to go through with her idea anyway. The clowns had no feasible way to stop her; she had a certain stubborn air about her.</p><p>Here's to hoping her baker knew better. "Do as you like."</p><p>The princess jumped with glee. "Great! I'll have it tomorrow!" She marched through into the bakery to finish her errand, and the clowns began the trek back to the fair.</p><p>"So, 'out of eggs,' huh?" Francis asked Slim curiously. "Why's that?"</p><p>"The world has begun to decline," the tall clown explained. "Temporarily, of course, but we should ask Manny and Gypsy for advice. They <em>did</em> experience the last one."</p><p>Around them, the capital was still bustling. Children and cheerful adolescents ran through the streets without a care, shrieking in delight. The citizens went on with their daily lives: shopping, dining, or working at shops or restaurants. Carriages still passed and horses still trotted with healthy clip-clops. Some luxurious venues were downgrading into simpler menus, but they seemed to still have enough patrons to get by. Even so, though there was no need to panic, they had to prepare. Throughout history, the declines were always gradual.</p><p>"How long do you think this will last?"</p><p>Slim didn't answer. Rather, he was disturbed by the baker's last words. Five years ago, something happened that caused him to lose hope in the future. At the same time, Flik was dropped off at their camp. It was a stretch—a very long stretch—but something in the back of his mind urged him to at least try to find out if the events were related.</p><p>And if they were, he may very well discover a grave injustice.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. On the Line</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As a Chosen of the Middle Ground, Atta had been told she didn't need to concern herself too much with the affairs of the kingdom. They said it was because she was already shouldered with a huge responsibility, though she suspected they simply saw no point. After all, if she was going to leave anyway, why should they bother with catching her up?</p><p>But she was still Anterria's princess, and she refused to let that title go to waste in leisure.</p><p>Sorting through and organizing the last of the documents, she let out a sigh of finality. There were a great many stacks of bills, petitions, and inquiries all over the round marble table. Some had even been left unresolved for a month. With a workload like this, she could not, in good conscience, leave her mother to carry everything on her own. Thankfully, her queen mother was a reasonable woman; it didn't take much to convince her to let the princess to learn and get involved with her work. So long as the Queen was with her, she was allowed to handle even some serious aspects of the politics.</p><p>Atta had come across quite a few interesting scenarios in her line of work. There was a time that she had to settle a property dispute, where one man claimed he owned a portion of his neighbor's lemon tree that began to grow over his land. She'd ruled he could own whatever fruits fell from the tree, as they would no longer be attached to the neighbor in any way. In another case, some peasants renting a lord's land complained that he took too much food from them as payment without negotiation. She'd found that the lord had overtaxed the peasants so they had no means to move away, and no bribe could have turned the ruling in his favor. Lastly—and she would giggle at this one—she remembered a bizarre bill about limiting sweets sales out of concern for the people's health. However, what each person did was nobody's business, so she threw the bill out.</p><p>Yes, she'd rather not let her mother deal with such specific trifles.</p><p>It was hard work, but she quite enjoyed it. So much time before the decision was invested in research, but she found that keeping occupied made her existence feel more worthwhile and less like some sort if emergency leverage. Every choice she made meant something, and there was a catharsis when someone's life changed for the better.</p><p>Most importantly, being busy distracted her from the gaping hole in her life and the tragedy that caused it, especially on this day.</p><p>Furiously shaking her head to clear it, Atta pressed her nose into the scroll in her hands. It was public petition, usually set up in the marketplace, for passersby to read and write their thoughts. This topic was about the fair, which was supposed to last a month. Some wanted to end it early in light of the declines, to save money and resources that otherwise would be wasted in celebration; others insisted they keep the fair to lighten spirits, and the tourism could add money to the coffers to use in emergency projects.</p><p>They seemed to agree that they should dismiss the circus early, however.</p><p>"You seem troubled." The Queen took the papers and skimmed them, setting her previous stacks aside. Her brows furrowed in sympathy. "What do you think of this?"</p><p>"It can't be helped," Atta said too quickly. "Nobody can control when the world starts to decay." Frankly, it made things easier for her. The sooner they left, the sooner he could be out of harm's way; that is, if the truth about her didn't drive him away first.</p><p>Tonight was going to be a very crucial and delicate night. She had to be sure she only told the truth about herself, and only enough for him to know how this world worked and why. He had to know why, once the music box was finished, they could never meet again. If she said the wrong thing, he was going to cling to that clue even if the truth tore him apart. She didn't want to think of what would happen if he started putting the pieces together, realizing they fit, and breaking down at the sheer weight of it all. No, she didn't want to see him writhing, trying to rip out his heart again, and staring at her this time with betrayal.</p><p>He must never know that he'd been helping the very woman responsible for his agony.</p><p>The answer seemed obvious, but then the princess started to second-guess herself. What would become of him if the circus left early? As she had seen, half of them were—using their term—freaks. If they couldn't support themselves, what would become of them? What would become of <em>him</em>? Was she really willing to cast him out that way?</p><p>Was she ready to let him go?</p><p>"Then again, they aren't using anything they didn't pay for," she added hastily, her mind racing to refute her previous statement. "Furthermore, the taxes we gather from them can add to the coffers. They can make a difference in… um…" If she kept her distance—</p><p>"Atta"—the Queen sounded urgent, almost as if she was begging—"you know you can tell me anything." She stepped out of her chair, moving to her daughter's side of the table. An unsteady, hesitant hand went to the princess' cheek and cupped it, guiding her face so that their eyes met. "You haven't been sleeping."</p><p>Suddenly self-conscious, Atta brushed her off and covered her left eye. She had to choose her words carefully, lest she put him at risk again. "I'm just having some off days," she claimed. "I'll pull through."</p><p>"Is it because of today?"</p><p>An idea quickly formed. Clearly, her mother thought she was mourning again. It wasn't completely untrue, but she could use that to hide the full truth, to protect him. "Are you going to ask me to get over it?" she asked, sounding more hostile than intended. If it added to the façade, then all the better. "I know what they think: that five years is more than enough time to mourn. I should forget about him, isn't that right?"</p><p>She almost felt bad when her mother lowered her head in shame, backing away. "No, of course not."</p><p>Scratch that, Atta felt absolutely awful. "Back to the topic at hand," she said, retrieving the petition. "Let's have the fair remain active while there's a sizeable crowd. The resulting revenue can be saved for the recovery period." Taking a quill and a blank paper in hand, she began drafting a response. "The circus can stay, too."</p><p>The Queen returned to her side of the table. "Very well," she approved.</p><p>For a long time, neither of them said a word to one another. It was almost a relief, as Atta could just get lost in the symphony of scratching quills and shuffling sheets. Petitions, deals, and bills were relatively emotionless. If she could only weigh costs, there would he no room to dwell on the past.</p><p>However, the tentative peace wouldn't last. "You have every right to feel as you do," her mother declared. "It's better that you remember the ones you love." She sounded more certain, but did not look back up. "Those memories will motivate you to do the right thing."</p><p>Atta didn't quite believe that, not after the last couple of nights. The right thing would have been to refuse that boy's offer to fix the music box, or let him work on it without her and finish sooner. She could have at least told him about the risks he was taking, so he could weigh the costs before making the offer in the first place. Instead, she took advantage of his lack of knowledge and his desire to be helpful, all to fulfill the desires of her memories.</p><p>She was being selfish once again.</p><p>They say that those who forget history are doomed to repeat it; what did they say about those who remembered?</p>
<hr/><p>Past the silk, the soft blue lights, and the harp, Flik was really no different than a toy bird on a string. If he wasn't in the middle of an aerial silks duet, which required a sort of serious and graceful attitude, he would have chuckled at the thought. Maybe he still could, seeing as no one would be able to see nor hear anything while he glided over the fascinated crowds.</p><p>If there was one thing he loved more than tinkering, it was flying. He loved the feeling of the wind brushing through his hair, the idea of being able to get somewhere much faster than he could walk, and how different things appeared when he looked down.</p><p>Sadly, he wasn't born with the power of flight, but aerial silks were the next best thing.</p><p>Oh, it wasn't easy. His skill level was nothing compared to Rosie's years, yet he was expected to be able to support his body with a single arm. Couple that with having the full weight of his bones rather than the flyer's magic hollowing, and he expected to be completely sore after the show.</p><p>As if to remind him of his novice, his legs faltered and bent. His sure façade broke and he panicked a moment, straightening them again immediately. It came at such a bad time, while his flight was slowing down. The audience must have seen it all, or did he just imagine the gasp?</p><p>The glaring mistakes were embarrassing now that he was performing, but he tried to tell himself that they could have been much worse. At least he and Rosie opted for an easy-to-remember mix of on-ground dancing, drops, and swings in lieu of some elaborate interpretive performance. Neither P.T. nor the audience seemed to care as long as there was a duet that consisted of stunts they themselves couldn't do. This was the one time Flik was glad the circus wasn't the best in the business.</p><p>After descending for the final stretch of the act, he ran the circumference of the ring with his arms spread behind him and his hands holding tightly to the edges of his silk line. The white cloth flowed behind him like a cape that seemed to grow longer and longer. Soon, he was lifted up for the last time, and the excess silk trailed like a phoenix's tail. He tried to keep himself as parallel to the ground as possible, but his quivering body still slanted. Hopefully, the tail would distract from that. From the corner of his eye, he saw the more experienced Rosie effortlessly pulling the same feats.</p><p>Slowly, the diameter of their circle got smaller and smaller, bringing them closer and closer together for the finale. They reached out for each other right before collision, locking arms and bending their knees as they spun in a dizzy blur of blue-and-white and red-and-black. The lights followed suit, changing to purple to fit the arguably romantic tone.</p><p>Flik imagined Princess Atta in Rosie's place.</p><p>It was only an instant, but his cheeks became hot and he hoped the colorful spotlight hid the blush. It was a good thing neither performer had to look at each other's face this time, or Rosie would have surely noticed something.</p><p>The harp played its final chords, signalling Flik to let go of his line. Still twirling, he hung from Rosie's hand and the rest of him turned parallel to the ground again. He righted himself as they began to descend to the fading music, facing her all the while and flashing an assuring and confident grin.</p><p>Then his feet touched the ground, the act ended, and the audience applauded. P.T. came out from the backstage to announce the intermission, taking the spotlight so the performers could leave under the cover of dimness.</p><p>"Not bad for your first silk act," Rosie said once they were backstage. "Do you feel any soreness? I know we agreed on this set, but—"</p><p>"Just a little." An understatement if there ever was one, though he didn't think much of it. "Wow, how do you do this everyday?"</p><p>The silk dancer smiled with a touch of pride. "Lifetime of practice," she answered. "Believe me, even I have trouble sometimes. This is not the best profession to have four extra legs in."</p><p>Someone clapped nearby. "Yet you look so natural." Gypsy appeared as if out of nowhere behind Rosie, true to being a magician's assistant. "That was quite the performance. I'd bet quite a few onlookers would have liked to dance with one of you."</p><p>Now without the protection of a colored light, the red on Flik's face was much clearer. "R-really?" He averted his eyes and tried to look anywhere else, if only to gather his mind again. "No, I wasn't that good…"</p><p>He couldn't help wondering how Princess Atta would react if she saw the performance. Would she be impressed? If she danced, would she fly or would she take up a silk line as well? Would she use her flyer's hollowing? Maybe she would ask him to teach her, if she was interested. The very idea made his heart skip and flip.</p><p>"Hey, what did you do to the poor kid?" he heard Francis ask, though he was clearly amused by whatever was happening. "What's so funny?"</p><p>How long had the ladies been giggling?</p><p>"I bet he's thinking of someone," Gypsy suggested. Being a married woman, she would obviously have hit the mark. "So, who's the lucky lady?"</p><p>Next to Francis, Heimlich put his hands to his face in mock shock. "No vay! Did Flik find his true love?"</p><p>Flailing his hands, Flik backed away. "No, I didn't! Honest!"</p><p>"That's exactly what someone with a crush <em>would</em> say," Rosie singsonged, and everyone cornered him.</p><p>He was about to deny it once more when he felt knocking on his leg. Glancing down, he saw Tuck and Roll grinning mischievously at him, one of them making kissy faces. In the gap in the crowd, he could even see Dim smiling knowingly.</p><p>"See? Even they get it," said Francis.</p><p>"You've all got it wrong!"</p><p>"Ladies, gentlemen, please," Slim cut in, hands out to diffuse the situation, "leave the poor fellow alone." At this, Flik began to sigh in relief, but he caught the playful gleam in the tall man's eyes too late. "Clearly, he's in the denial stage and requires a grace period."</p><p>"Slim, you traitor!"</p><p>"Knowing him, a 'grace period' means waiting until it's too late," Francis said, to which the others agreed. "What he needs is some guts."</p><p>Gypsy giggled. "You know, Manny was quite—"</p><p>The tent exit flapped as the magician in question burst through. "Not another word!"</p><p>"Oh, perfect timing!" the feathered woman strode to her husband. "Manny, do you have any advice for our little Flik?"</p><p>Manny's face had gone pale at the inescapable mistake he'd made. "My dear, hasn't he been tormented enough?"</p><p>"Says the man who hid while we surrounded the poor boy," Gypsy pouted, giving him a kiss on the cheek and causing him to blush.</p><p>"I was meditating." Manny regained his composure and addressed the others. "My friends, we should leave him to his own devices. Even if he is smitten, you won't pry anything out of him."</p><p>Though disgruntled, Flik really thought that was the end of it. "There we go. Now—"</p><p>But the older man wasn't done. Still completely serious, he told them: "He has a tendency to spill his secrets on his own."</p><p>The second round of betrayal was probably more painful than the first. "Aw, not you too!" Flik groaned and covered his heated face while absolutely everyone guffawed at him. Despite himself, he just couldn't resist their infectious laughter.</p><p>"What's goin' on over here? I can hear ya from outside!" The mechanic thanked his lucky stars as, finally, the group quieted down and spread out as P.T. Flea stood at the curtain, tapping his foot. "Anyway, break time's over. Francis, Slim, Heimlich, you're up!" He hopped back out to announce the clowns.</p><p>"Aw, und vee vere having so much fun," said the green clown as he headed out.</p><p>"Well then, I suppose we have to wait until you're ready," Slim said as he ruffled Flik's hair, much to his displeasure. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He left soon after that.</p><p>Francis followed after the tall clown. "I'm gonna be your best man, got it?" he chuckled before the curtain closed.</p><p>"Now should be a good time to get ready," Gypsy said, still giggling. "We didn't go too far with the teasing, did we?" Her magenta eyes reflected some concern.</p><p>Flik beamed at her to reassure her. "Not at all. I had fun, see?"</p><p>"Oh, good. I'll be out back if you need anything." The feathered woman strode away.</p><p>Before exiting himself, Manny gave a small smile to the mechanic. "Sorry, my boy, but the opportunity had presented itself." He probably regretted nothing at all.</p><p>"I'm going to go fix up some treats for Dim," Rosie said next, leading the rhinoceros away. "Let us know when it's time for the finale."</p><p>Tuck and Roll left last, still waggling their eyebrows even as they pranced away. They were probably going to keep making fun of him for a while, and he didn't know enough of their language to tell them to knock it off. It might even be fruitless.</p><p>Now that he was alone at last, Flik completely relaxed and rested on a lone box near the back of the tent. Seeing as he wasn't going to be part of the finale tonight, he could take this opportunity to catch up on sleep. Even he wasn't immune to fatigue, after all.</p><p>He smiled wryly to himself. Obviously, he wasn't going to tell them, but his friends were probably right about him having a crush. He couldn't think of any other reason why he anticipated yet another secret meeting with Princess Atta. Maybe he could chalk it up to really enjoying her company and seeing her as a dear friend, but the warmth in his heart told him otherwise.</p><p>No one else could make him feel like he had a normal soul.</p><p>There was just something about her that moved him in ways nobody else could. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to know about her. He already loved her willingness to learn, her proficiency with the sculpting knife, her thoughtful philosophy, and the kindness she showed him on the night they met. He couldn't wait to see what else he could learn tonight.</p><p>"<em>I'll tell you tomorrow."</em> She did say those words, didn't she? They sounded very important, too. That she would entrust him with something so big excited him.</p><p>He couldn't wait for midnight.</p>
<hr/><p>Maybe he could have waited for midnight.</p><p>"Just a few steps…" Giving up, Flik set his tool chest down once again for his arms to rest. They should have gone back to normal by now, but the aches had gotten worse over time. He'd lost count of how many times he had to stop. "I should've gotten an ice pack or something."</p><p>Taking up the box again, he tried to hurry to the edge of the forest, already seeing the breaks in the trees. He was close enough to see the shimmer of the waters lit by moonlight. Thankfully, his legs and torso fared much better, though also a bit sore, and he could quicken his pace just a bit.</p><p>Upon reaching the edge, he spotted and smiled at a familiar woman's silhouette sitting by a fire. "Princess Atta!" he called to her.</p><p>She turned towards him immediately, getting up to meet him. "You made it!" she breathed, sounding relieved for some reason. It didn't last as her brows furrowed. "Did something happen?"</p><p>"It's nothing, really," he assured her, putting his tool chest down again.</p><p>"But you look tired." Before he could respond, she took one of his wrists. The ache shot up and he winced, which she apparently noticed. "What happened?"</p><p>Flik tried not to let his grin falter. "Just a performance!" he said rapidly, lightly tugging at his wrist. He wasn't sure how to feel about her firm hold. "I was part of the aerial silk act today."</p><p>Cue the confusion. "Aerial silks? You're not just a clown?" She finally let go, much to his relief.</p><p>"I'm a backup," he clarified, pointing to himself with pride. "Whenever an act needs an extra or the boss gets an idea, I'm the guy they go to. Of course, that also means I have to be ready for anything." He bent down to take the tool chest again, though he didn't lift it yet. "Though, if I have to be honest, an aerial duet is not a good idea to pitch on short notice."</p><p>Princess Atta pushed his hands off the tool chest and took it herself. "In that case, you didn't have to bring your tools," she said, exasperated. In a slightly quieter voice, she added: "We could have worked tomorrow."</p><p>Flik's grin became mischievous. "Oh? Do you like working together?"</p><p>She huffed and looked away. "I won't make you work while you're in pain!" she exclaimed, quite flustered. "Anyway, since you're already here <em>and</em> you brought tools, I guess I'll finish the music box alone." Quickly, she headed back to the fire. "I'll carry the tool chest, too."</p><p>Slightly thankful for the help, though also a bit guilty, Flik followed her. "Hey, it's bad customer service to make you do the rest of the work," he joked. "All we need to do today is reattach everything. Easy peasy."</p><p>"You need a steady and painless hand to do it right," she quipped back.</p><p>"But I'm—"</p><p>"Just accept the help and move on!" The Princess sounded annoyed, but she was laughing at the same time. "Honestly, you try so hard to be all give and no take. It's all so…" She trailed off and gasped, stopping in her tracks.</p><p>Stopping as well, Flik could probably guess what—or whom—she was thinking about. "I'm guessing he was like that, too?"</p><p>Her posture slacked a bit and she didn't say anything. After a time, she just flew towards the campfire, placed the tool chest down, and flew back to him. "Can I carry you? You should rest as soon as possible."</p><p>His cheeks warmed and he hoped she couldn't see the blush. "Uh… sure." Instantly, she hovered behind him and wrapped her arms around him. His heart began to pound. "Wha—?!"</p><p>"Your arms hurt, don't they?" She lifted him up and sped toward their belongings, gently letting him down on the sand. "Okay, I'll let you know if I need help with the music box." With that, she opened the tool chest, grabbed a jar of glue and a brush, and began to apply the glue to a stone flower.</p><p>Flik glanced over at the music box nearby. From the looks of it, all it needed was for the stone flowers, the hinge, and the daisy knob to be put back in their rightful places. His eyes narrowed at the hinge. Recalling the night before, he remembered that the music box didn't have any holes. The hinge must have been glued on, and that would be too easy to snap.</p><p>Reaching out, he took the small metal piece and examined at it with the fire's light. Indeed, he saw that there were four holes. "This thing was supposed to be nailed down."</p><p>Princess Atta paused. "What?" she asked warily.</p><p>"The hinge. It was meant to be nailed to the box." As with the flowers, he wasn't about to make modifications without her permission. "I guess we could make do with the glue, but it won't snap so easily with nails. I should have the right size in my tool chest."</p><p>The Princess stared at the hinge, and then her music box, and back at the hinge. She sighed sadly. "How steady is your hand?"</p><p>Flik checked his arm; it hurt, but only when he moved it roughly or put pressure on it. "Pretty steady. As long as I don't move it suddenly, everything should be fine."</p><p>She considered it for a moment, before giving him a quiet "Do what you have to."</p><p>He nodded and took a tiny hand drill from his tool chest, along with a small bag of twisting nails, a small clamp for fastening, and a ruler. The bottom of the music box was the first to be worked on, and he was more careful with it than with anything else he ever worked on. He checked the dimensions again and again before picking the area to drill. The hinge helped him compare and choose exactly where to place the nails. After the main part of the box was finished, he did the same for the lid.</p><p>In all the focus, he'd forgotten the pain.</p><p>He'd just finished reattaching the hinge—which reunited the two largest parts of the music box—when he felt eyes boring into him. Peering up, he saw Princess Atta staring right at him. "Do you need something, Princess?" he asked.</p><p>Blinking twice, and apparently surprised at herself, she went right back to her stone flower. "Nothing." She cleaned off the excess glue and put the brush away for a bit. "Actually, help me place this."</p><p>Flik held the music box and placed the ruler on top for her. He watched as she also checked the dimensions over and over until she settled on placing the flower slightly above the center. It stayed as she let it go, and she took it as a sign to rinse and repeat for the next two.</p><p>The daisy knob was the last and easiest piece. It didn't need to be glued, but only snapped in its rightful spot. This final stretch was a sweet respite after all the hard work they had done for the last couple of nights.</p><p>The music box was finally complete. "It's… It's finished…" The Princess' eyes met his and her smile was so radiant. "Thank you. This means so much to me." Gingerly, she picked up the box and held it as close as she could without disturbing the still-drying flowers.</p><p>"I'm glad I can help!" Flik chirped. "With all the improvements, it should last for a long time!"</p><p>A cold chill shot through his veins. Now that the music box was fixed, there was no reason for Princess Atta to come back. This might be their last meeting… ever. The joy he felt for her started to morph into bittersweetness and then a sort of loss.</p><p>Her expression became conflicted, almost as if she read his mind. "Yes, it should." She sounded a lot less enthusiastic now, too.</p><p>Flik became hopeful, gathering that maybe she felt as he did and wanted to keep visiting. "Um… You know, I—"</p><p>"Would you like to listen?" she interrupted. Her hand was hovering over the daisy knob.</p><p>He could hardly believe his ears; he let the interruption slide. "Can I really?" he asked softly. "But isn't it a gift for you?" Unsure as he was, he couldn't stop eying the box.</p><p>Princess Atta grinned. "People show off their gifts," she said. "You've worked so hard on this, so I think you deserve to know what's inside." She turned the knob a few times, and then let it play.</p><p>The tune was simple as a child's lullaby; it could be played on a piano with one hand. It was also very slow and quite possibly very easy to replicate if he tried, sticking to one speed with little variation. There was melancholy as well, like the prelude to a farewell, maybe not something for a sunny day.</p><p>Beyond all those things, Flik could feel every bit of love poured into the melody. In its simplicity, its message was clear; in its slowness, there was time to absorb it; in its melancholy, it reflected sincerity. From all these, there spawned a warmth that melted the world away.</p><p>Eventually, the tune faded and the music box closed. Upon returning to reality, the first thing he noticed was Princess Atta's eyes. Her gaze was intense and… expectant?</p><p>"What do you think?" she asked him. She sounded different, but he couldn't place how.</p><p>It probably wasn't anything important. "It's… How do I describe it?" Simple? Warm? Bittersweet? "Love. That's all I felt from it."</p><p>Her expression became unreadable. "Love…" she repeated, looking back down at her treasure. "You're the only other person to think of it that way." Her fingers traced the edges of one of the carved leaves. She let out a rather long sigh. "It does fit…"</p><p>Flik couldn't decide whether to engage or wait patiently, but he did keep quiet in his indecision. He was a bit worried about the Princess' behavior. He could tell she was shouldering a lot, but it seemed off for her to be so faraway like this.</p><p>Finally, she ended the silence. "You know, today is the anniversary of the day I got the music box," she said fondly, but very softly.</p><p>He perked up immediately. "Really?" He smiled at the box. "Must be real neat to have finished it today, then. Happy birthday, little buddy!" He'd expected giggling, but heard nothing but waves and fire cracks. "Princess?"</p><p>"I promised to tell you something important today, didn't I?"</p><p>He wasn't sure whether or not to feel relieved, hearing how sad and tired she sounded. "You did, but you don't have—"</p><p>"No, it has to be now." She set her box down and clenched her hands into fists. Taking a few heavy breaths, she turned her gaze towards the sky, above the lake. "Look over there. Do you see a floating castle?"</p><p>Flik followed her gaze and saw, approaching the moon, the landmass in question. It was so far away, but he could see the silhouette of the castle. The land was so high up that no flyer could ever reach it. "It's the Middle Ground!"</p><p>"You know about the Middle Ground?"</p><p>"Well, only that it's our world's heart," he admitted sheepishly. "I never really thought much else of it."</p><p>"Then I'll start from the beginning." Now she had his attention. She seemed reluctant, but she was true to her word and pressed on. "Yes, the Middle Ground does maintain the world balance, but it can't seem to do it alone. Once in a while, since the very start, it would choose one royal from each of two kingdoms: Anterria and Grascae." After a pause, she continued: "As you can guess, I'm Anterria's Chosen."</p><p>In light of this impromptu history lesson, Flik was already forming questions. "Oh? So what are you supposed to do?"</p><p>Princess Atta's expression soured a bit. "When the world starts to decay, I and my partner are meant to go through a ceremony called 'the Union.' From there, we go to the Middle Ground itself and the balance gets restored, but we don't come back." She bit back a growl and she glared at the ground, refusing to look up at the Middle Ground any longer. "The whole thing is nothing but an arranged marriage. To top it all off, my intended is the worst kind of person to be a Chosen: completely selfish and cruel."</p><p>Something about that just didn't sit right. "How can that be? Maybe it's all a mistake."</p><p>"I wish it was, but he had the signs." The Princess turned and her eyes once again bore into his. "Look into my left eye. What do you see?"</p><p>So he looked and saw something odd, sitting on her pupil and covering the top half of her iris. "It looks like a tiara."</p><p>"That's the Middle Ground's Mark," she explained. "My betrothed has a similar one in his right eye. That's how everyone knows. We can also hear the Middle Ground singing, but it's more to soothe us than to prove anything." She sighed and pursed her lips. "Lately, though, it's just been grating, like it's been mocking me."</p><p>Flik's heart went out for her, ached at her predicament. "That's awful…" He spied the music box and his blood chilled. "What about your lover?"</p><p>"We weren't lovers," she denied, voice dripping with regret. She began to tremble and she brought a hand to her face, lowering her eyes so that her hair covered them. "Because the fate of the world rests on us Chosen, laws were made to make sure we didn't get too attached to anyone." The campfire highlighted the tears that dropped to the sand. "Gods help those… whom we loved…"</p><p>"Oh no…" He reached for her, to comfort her. "Oh, Princess…"</p><p>"Don't," she muttered and moved away, gathering her music box. Getting to her feet, she refused to face him. "I should have told you from the start. I'm so sorry."</p><p>"No, don't be," Flik tried to reassure her. "You must have been very lonely."</p><p>Slowly, she nodded. "I was, but I can't be selfish anymore." Finally the Princess lifted her face. "On the very day he gave me this music box, he was taken from me. I don't want to see it happen again." She dried her face as best she could. "You understand, don't you? This is our last meeting."</p><p>"I…" He didn't want that. "...yeah…" He wanted to keep seeing her, even if they were only friends, but he didn't want her to keep hurting. If parting ways gave her peace of mind, then he was glad to have met her at all. "Thank you, Princess Atta."</p><p>She smiled gratefully. "No. Thank <em>you</em>, Flik. For everything." Her wings materialized, glistening in the firelight, but she did not move. "Oh, I forgot the payment."</p><p>He smiled wryly. "Don't worry about it. Really."</p><p>"But…" she started, then fell silent. "Okay." Her wings started to buzz.</p><p>"Wait!" Flik couldn't believe what he just said.</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>What did he hope to say, now that she paused? It had to be worth her time. Every second spent deciding was another added to the debt. What can he say? What <em>should</em> he say?</p><p>
  <em>I'll miss you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I like you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love you.</em>
</p><p>"I'll never forget you."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For reference, listen to "Theme of Love" from Mother 3. :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Tentative Normality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was bright when Flik woke, sunlight filtering into his crawl space through small side windows in his caravan. Normally, he would have gotten up energetic and well-rested, but he felt the opposite. He shouldn't expect anything different after dozing off so late in the night. Instead of sleeping peacefully, he had tossed and turned and tried to keep his void in check until he finally drifted off.</p><p>Even now, he was still thinking of Princess Atta.</p><p><em>"Can you make her happy?"</em> Dot had asked him on the very night they met. At the time, he'd wondered what he could offer to someone who should have everything, but now he knew better. He knew <em>her</em> better.</p><p>It couldn't have been easy for Princess Atta to have the whole world on her shoulders. He didn't even want to think of adding her loneliness and grief into the mix. How heavy was her heart from those painful memories, with the "good old days" to reminisce about? Flik couldn't imagine even a fraction of her pain. In hindsight, fixing a music box with her couldn't possibly offset all that.</p><p>So he spent what little of the night left racking his brain for <em>something</em> he could do for her. It was still a work in progress. He couldn't change how the world worked, and he didn't dare consider talking her out of her duty. There was nothing he could buy that she couldn't obtain herself. Fixing the music box didn't count as helping, since he broke it in the first place. No, he needed to give her something else, something only he could make, something she could use and never get tired of!</p><p>He began to mutter in his ponderings. "What happens once she gets to the Middle Ground, anyway?" he asked as he peeked outside his small window, spotting the floating castle. He suddenly felt uneasy. "She's just… gonna live there, right?" Princess Atta never mentioned anything about dying, but why else would no one know what happened at the Middle Ground? "But what if she does live and I give her something useless? This is so… so… <em>ugh</em>!"</p><p>Just as it seemed he was about to get a headache, he began to hum. The song that came out was a soothing collection of melodies that popped up in his head and it had been the reason he'd been able to fall asleep. It would have been the perfect tune for a music box, and it would go along well with Princess Atta's.</p><p>But Flik didn't want to outdo someone else's final work.</p><p>Still no other ideas came to mind, but he always thought better on his feet than on his back. "Maybe all I need is some fresh air," he said after a while, then his eyes brightened and he snapped his fingers. "Oh, I'll ask Dot for her input! She'd know her own sister much better than I could." With renewed energy, he flipped onto his stomach. Aches shot up through his muscles and he landed with small <em>puff!</em> on his pillow and sheets. "Ow… Maybe I <em>should</em> have gone with an easier routine," he muttered to himself, now sluggishly dragging himself from his crawl space.</p><p>Standing was not as bad an endeavor as he expected, especially with the drawer as support. He stretched his limbs and body out a bit, relieving some of the pain. As he leaned against the drawer, one of his hands touched a cold waterskin, which made the telltale rumbles of shifting ice. He instantly grabbed it and applied it to his arms, sighing as the aches began to fade.</p><p>A small tag with his name on it hung from the makeshift ice pack. "How thoughtful," he said to himself as he moved the waterskin to wherever else it was needed. As soon as the soreness became tolerable, he walked out and into the summer breeze.</p><p>The sky was clear and the sun shone gloriously over the meadow that was the campsite. The colorful wildflowers stood both to meet the rays and show off their dressings to the world. Birds all around sang their love songs, which seemed in tune with the swaying grass. It was the perfect time and place to brainstorm.</p><p>But then he spotted his friends all gathered around the active fire pit, partaking in a pot of breakfast. His stomach rumbled a bit and he had to agree that he'd much rather work on a full stomach, so he went to join them.</p><p>Francis looked up from his bowl, having been facing his direction as Flik drew closer. "Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty!" he announced, turning all other heads.</p><p>"Oh, how original!" Flik shouted back. He sat among them and grabbed an empty bowl to fill. "Good morning, everyone. What's for breakfast?"</p><p>"It's oatmeal," Rosie replied, and then pointed towards the rim of the fire pit. "Toppings are down there. We've got berries and honey."</p><p>"Sounds good." He helped himself to breakfast and began to dig in.</p><p>Gypsy nudged him a bit. "I see you've found the ice pack."</p><p>He nodded. "Yeah, it hit the spot. Thank you."</p><p>"Do try to keep track of your limits next time," she scolded him lightly.</p><p>He chuckled sheepishly. "Yes, <em>Mother</em>."</p><p>She rolled her eyes and nonchalantly added some honey to her bowl. "Don't sass me, young man. I may as well <em>be</em> your mother." She looked very pleased, but gave way to worry. "So, you slept in today, too." She leaned toward him a bit. "You look a little pale. Are you all right?"</p><p>He paused, trying to figure out how to explain himself. "O-of course! I feel great, actually." A light went off in his head as he remembered a much more pressing and positive detail. "In fact, I'm excited to head to the registry!"</p><p>"We need to do one more soul check first," she reminded him.</p><p>"Right, right. When do we start?"</p><p>"After breakfast"—she gave him a stern eye—"when <em>everyone</em> is satisfied."</p><p>Flik sighed and smiled wryly. "Okay, I get it." He adjusted his legs to keep them from falling asleep. His shoes tapped against the dirt and lightly kicked up dust.</p><p>Francis cleared his throat. "Now, where was I?"</p><p>"The big guy showed up?" Rosie chimed helpfully.</p><p>"Right! So, the whole ground shakes…"</p><p>As if Flik had been there all along, everyone resumed their breakfast and storytelling. Over time, chewing and listening became interactive chatter as bowls emptied and stomachs filled. The best part was when they started to play an impromptu game of "Best Advice," featuring whoever was down in the dumps. Today's star was Francis.</p><p>The feminine clown groaned in exasperation at the end of his latest tale. "Seriously! I didn't ask for this!" He gave his hair a light tug. "Should I just shave my head or somethin'?"</p><p>"Let's slow down a bit. You don't need a shave," Rosie said, getting up. She stepped around him, giving his head a few onceovers. "That straightened hair isn't doing you any favors. You might need a more messy style." With that, she began to ruffle his hair.</p><p>Francis reached up to stop her, only for his hands to be batted away. "Hey!"</p><p>"Hold still!"</p><p>Slim closed the pot and held his bowl as far away from them as he was able. "Rosie, you may want to work a little further away from the food."</p><p>"Ja," Heimlich agreed, "hair is not good vis zee oatmeal."</p><p>"I'm almost done." She combed through the hair, letting the tufts form layers. "Something's missing…" Bunching the longer, bottom tufts together behind Francis' head, she snapped her fingers. She quickly bound the tufts with silk into a ponytail. "Perfect! You're more boyish already."</p><p>"That's quite a difference," Slim said with a nod.</p><p>Heimlich clapped. "Vat do you sink everyone else looks like vis different shtyles?" he asked.</p><p>In their own curiosity, Tuck and Roll began to fiddle with each other's eyebrows: the only distinguishing mark between them. Whether or not they understood was a mystery, but they got the gist of what was going on.</p><p>Suddenly, Rosie had a glint in her eye, and the air went cold. "Excellent question, Heimlich. Why don't we all find out?"</p><p>Swiftly and a bit stiffly, Slim put his things down and stood. "Oh, would you look at the time. We'd best be heading off now."</p><p>"It's still morning," the silk dancer singsonged.</p><p>Francis took to the air before anyone could think to grab him. "And we have a lot to do with so little time." He started to fly off with Slim following behind.</p><p>Heimlich, getting whatever hint they gave off, lumbered after them. "Zee early bird gets zee vorm!" he called as all three shrank out of hearing range.</p><p>Rosie shook her head with a snort. "They could have at least put their dishes away," she said as she began picking up their disheveled bowls and put them into a wooden rack with a lid.</p><p>Manny added his bowl to the rack. "They are still boys," he commented, standing and dusting himself. He turned his head towards Flik, golden irises taking on a tired shade. "Are you ready for treatment, Flik?"</p><p>The mechanic sighed. "Ready as I'll ever be." He began to push himself up, but his arms were unsteady. "Eh… Just gimme a minute."</p><p>Gypsy hummed and stood. "Let's get it done out here," she suggested, removing her cloak and folding it up and setting it on the ground. "Rest your head."</p><p>Flik paused. "You sure?" At her nodding, he leaned back until he hit the makeshift pillow. "Thanks."</p><p>Manny sat himself down again. "It's not as comfortable as the couch, but it will do."</p><p>"That's fine."</p><p>Rosie whistled, catching Dim's attention. She attached the dish rack to his saddle once he reached her. "Well, we'll just be going. Tell me how it all turns out, okay?"</p><p>Gypsy knelt down by Flik's head. "Of course."</p><p>"Good." Rosie started away. "Tuck, Roll, come along!" she called, and they were gone.</p><p>Manny lifted his hands into the air, glowing an all-too-familiar green. "Are you ready, my boy?"</p><p>Flik nodded and closed his eyes. "Yep."</p><p>"Good, good, then let us begin."</p><p>In the darkness, all he could feel was the tendrils pulling at his heart again. Like a seamster meticulously spreading out a cloth, the magician's soul shaped his own. More empty spaces filled by thin sheets of healing and growing wisps. They were streams destined to become rivers.</p><p>Part of Flik had hoped this would be painless, but he guessed his luck had to run out some time. It went on the same as usual, but that irked him. He expected something to feel different, or to hear a comment about soul damage or healing. Nothing happened. It was as if the pain and completeness he felt around Princess Atta were imagined, a dream.</p><p>He apparently thought too soon, as a wisp brushed over a gash and he let out a choked cry.</p><p>"What's this?" Manny said more to himself than anyone else. His voice was tinged with pain, but it also held a hopeful curiosity.</p><p>"What do you see?" Gypsy asked.</p><p>"In… a moment," was all the magician could reply.</p><p>Only then did Flik notice that this therapy was lengthier than usual. Honestly, he wasn't sure how to feel about that. He was caught between being glad that more work could get done or uncomfortable with the increasing number of shockwaves.</p><p>Thankfully, it didn't last <em>much</em> longer, and the pain ceased just as he started to worry about any progress. He didn't bother to open his eyes as it ended, preferring to just rest and get his heart back in order.</p><p>"Well, how did it go?" he heard Gypsy ask, an eager smile in her tone.</p><p>Manny took heavy breaths as usual, but they were much smoother. "It was the strangest thing," he told her. "The usual scarring has gone, and fresh wounds were just recently healed."</p><p>"Meaning?" the amnesiac asked, cracking an eye open.</p><p>The magician smiled at him. "Your soul may finally begin to heal on its own," he said, thoughtfully stroking his beard. "It still needs help, of course, but our therapies will soon be a thing of the past."</p><p>Flik perked up. "That's great! I was starting to think we'd never get past those." He pushed himself into sitting position. "So, you didn't find anything out of the ordinary?"</p><p>Manny quirked an eyebrow. "Did something happen?"</p><p>"No, no!" Flik vehemently shook his head. "It's just that we're going to the registry today. I don't want anything getting in the way of that."</p><p>The older man's gold eyes softened. "Ah, yes, understandable. Don't worry, we'll still go."</p><p>"You're certain nothing is wrong?" asked Gypsy. "You two looked very hurt for a moment."</p><p>"That could have been any time," Flik said, getting anxious. "I'm not out of the woods yet, but I'm getting there! That's the most important part, right?"</p><p>"It must have been a freshly healed wound," Manny explained, amused. "I hadn't seen it, but that may prove the boy's soul is becoming self-sufficient." He got up, leaning on his wife for support. "Now, shall we be off? Or do you need another moment?"</p><p>With a shake of his head, Flik slowly pushed himself up. He was still a bit sore, but it was bearable. "I think I'm good." He scarcely got to his knees before he heard soft flapping wings and felt two pairs of arms tugging at his own. "Hm?"</p><p>"Do you really want to walk the whole way?" Gypsy questioned with a giggle.</p><p>Well, if his limbs had anything to say about it… "I guess not." He felt all weight leave his bones and the three lifted off into the sky.</p>
<hr/><p>A rich chocolate scent wafted into Atta's face the moment she entered the kitchen and put on disposable gloves. "Dot? I'm here," she announced, searching the empty room for her sister.</p><p>The gigantic space was lined with enough stoves and ovens to bring out a festive feast within hours, as well as enough sinks to clean everything within minutes. Utensils hung from the walls and ceilings in their own armory, from the largest knife to the smallest fork. In the middle of the room was an armada of moving tables, used for anything from food preparation to serving, all in rows of three.</p><p>On the farthest table from her, she spotted a three tiers of a chocolate cake and a small hand waving from behind them. "Over here!" her sister's cheerful voice called. The hand was followed by the lilac head, with a smile just as bright. "Took you long enough! Let's get started!"</p><p>Atta eyed the bowls of white frosting, chocolate shavings, cherries, whipped cream, and even blue flowers strewn about the cake. "Are you trying to decorate?" She tied on a clean white apron.</p><p>Dot nodded vehemently. "Mm-hm! You have a good eye for this stuff, right?" she grabbed the board with the largest tier, trying to lift it to the turntable. "And Mom said… you weren't feeling good. Maybe this'll cheer you... up!"</p><p>The elder princess rolled her eyes as she helped her place the cake tier. "So, I wouldn't be here if Mother didn't suggest it?" she teased, smirking at her sister's pout.</p><p>"That's not what I meant!"</p><p>"I know, I know." Frosting spatula in hand, she got to work. It was, thankfully, not too far from painting with a wide brush. "Thank you. Really. I needed to get out."</p><p>"That's what sisters are for, right?" Dot said, placing the second tier on a smaller turntable to work on.</p><p>"Yes, that's right." Absentmindedly, Atta spread the frosting evenly over the tier. She found herself gazing at the decorative flowers and noted the shade. "Dot, who is this cake for?" she asked, but she was certain she already knew the answer.</p><p>"For Flik."</p><p>Knew it. "Didn't you just meet him?"</p><p>"Well, it's his birthday today and his friends wanted to throw a party," the little princess prattled on, "but the bakery wouldn't make any more cakes. That's okay, because we'll make a better one."</p><p>Atta nodded, but she was more focused on wondering why Mother hadn't said anything to Dot. The Queen must have asked why she wanted a cake; and if she knew, she knew better than to let Atta help. She wanted to ask, but maybe it was best not to say anything. If her mother didn't know now, she wouldn't want her to find out. The less she hinted that she <em>knew</em> Flik, the better it was for the both of them.</p><p>Besides, it was kind of nice to do something for him from afar for once.</p><p>Just as a wry, knowing smile graced her face, Atta took a good look at the blue flowers again. Her breath hitched once she recognized them. "These flowers might be in poor taste," she muttered as she fixed the blossoms with a glare.</p><p>Of course, Dot was none the wiser. "Hm? The gardener told me they were edible."</p><p>"I mean, they are forget-me-nots."</p><p>A pained expression fell on the small princess. "Oh… really?" The turntable stopped as she looked at the forget-me-nots. "I guess we can leave them out."</p><p>"It's for the best," Atta assured her, brushing the flowers as far from the cake as she could. Even if Flik couldn't recognize them, or was too grateful to be bothered, his friends might think them insensitive. It wasn't thoughtful to give forget-me-nots to someone afflicted by Dying Memory.</p><p>After all, the memories were gone, not simply hidden.</p><p>
  <em>"I'll never forget you."</em>
</p><p>Blinking, she tapped at her temple, if only to knock away the memory. That was simply a heartfelt farewell and nothing more. It was a perfectly normal thing to say to someone, but now it sounded so off...</p><p>...so <em>wrong</em>.</p><p>Could he make promises he already broke?</p><p>She furiously shook her head. Now wasn't the time for that. "I'm sure there are other blue flowers we can use." Borage was the first to come to mind, but they tasted like the cucumbers that Anterrians generally hated. Chicory was beautiful, but might be too bitter. "Cornflower sounds good," she thought aloud. "Or pansies. I think pansy will look the best." She would have to search up the meaning some time.</p><p>Dot perked up and put down her spatula. "Pansies, then!" She rushed to the door to request the blooms from a passing servant. It was but a few moments before she came back. "Atta, did you finish the bottom part yet?"</p><p>"Almost." She needed another layer of frosting. "How will we decorate it?"</p><p>"Like this." Her sister took some chocolate shavings and blanketed them all over the bottom tier. "I had the baker make a black forest cake, because who doesn't love chocolate and berries?" she explained with a grin. "The flowers are gonna add a little more color to it."</p><p>Atta raised an incredulous brow. "That's a bit fancy for a… a clown, don't you think?"</p><p>"What do you mean? I'm keeping it simple," Dot said innocently, as expected of a child surrounded by wealth. Suddenly, she dropped her fistful of chocolate shavings and gasped. "I forgot the blueberries!" She ran to the door again to call down another servant.</p><p>The elder princess rolled her eyes and put down the spatula to finish the job. She wondered how his—<em>Flik's</em>—face would look upon seeing the cake. He must be used to the simpler, blank ones from smaller bakeries, and that was assuming the circus paid him. The idea of him beholding the luxurious monstrosity left her with a giggle. She could already picture him having to stand up to blow out the candles, cheered by his friends.</p><p>Friends. That meant he was in good hands.</p><p>Announced by the clacking of heels against tile flooring, the small princess came back with a small batch of blueberries. "Should these go on top or on the side?"</p><p>"We should probably finish covering the cake first," Atta replied, applying chocolate to the final bald spots of the bottom layer. "They might look nice on the edge with the cherries. Maybe two or three blueberries for every cherry." She emptied the turntable to make room for the last piece, covering it right away in fluffy cream.</p><p>"That sounds good," Dot agreed, getting to work blanketing the middle tier with chocolate. She was only a quarter of the way done when she paused. "I'm gonna miss this, you know?"</p><p>Taken aback, Atta accidentally put a dent in the frosting. "What?"</p><p>"The world is ending," Dot clarified. "That means you have to leave soon to save it, and we can't hang out anymore." She put the chocolate down, rubbing her face on her sleeve. "You won't forget about me, right?"</p><p>Atta couldn't hold back a giggle. "What are you talking about? I'll never—"</p><p>
  <em>"I'll never forget you."</em>
</p><p>"Atta?"</p><p>She forced herself to breathe again. "I won't… I won't forget you, Dot," she promised, painting on a grin. "I'll bring a copy of our family portrait with me, okay?"</p><p>Dot eyes brightened. "And I'll keep my copy, too! That way, I won't forget your face." Having just finished dusting the middle layer in chocolate, she carefully placed it atop the bottom tier. "What else are you gonna bring?"</p><p>Atta bit the inside of her cheek. No one knew what happened at the Middle Ground, what sacrifices took place. If she took her most precious possessions, they could be destroyed. Up until today, she hadn't planned on taking anything with her.</p><p>But Dot was too young to learn about that.</p><p>"I have a month to decide, but…" It was so little time. Maybe even a year would be too short.</p><p>"Are you gonna take your music box?" Dot asked hopefully.</p><p>It was no secret that the younger princess was fond of the box, if only because she might sense the heart and soul put into it. Maybe it was better to leave the box with her. She would take very good care of it, and it wouldn't be destroyed or left to rot on the floating island. The tune inside could be passed down as a lullaby as well. It could very well be one of the best ways to preserve a keepsake: as an heirloom or precious artifact.</p><p>Though Atta knew this, she could not bear to part with it. "I suppose I would take it."</p><p>"Oh…" Still, the youngest princess didn't seem too disappointed. "Then can we listen to it before you go? I want to remember the song, and then it'll be like you're still here when I hum it." She clapped her hands together, signalling a brilliant idea. "I can even call it 'Atta's Lullaby!'"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"I have a better name." Absently, Atta reached for the abandoned forget-me-nots. The star-shaped blossoms seemed to twinkle, much like last night's stars, in anticipation of a wish. Or was it a promise already in pieces?</p><p>
  <em>"What do you think?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Love. That's all I felt from it."</em>
</p><p>"'Love,' huh?"</p>
<hr/><p>Before his eyes was a giant tree. The brown stone trunk towered so high and wide that he had to crane his neck to see any sky. The very width rivaled the common mansion and any garden expansions, maybe even half of the castle itself. Large trunks decorated with leaves and vines formed a canopy over the ground beneath, almost as if it was night there. At the bottom of the trunk was a pair of doors that appeared overgrown with vines as well, complete with door knockers that looked like mandibles. Everything gave this tree a sense of age and wisdom.</p><p>"Is this the registry?" Flik pondered aloud.</p><p>"It isn't," Manny replied.</p><p>Bewildered, Flik whipped around. "Then where are we?"</p><p>"Well, we are <em>at</em> the registry, but you weren't looking <em>at</em> it," the magician explained, a flash of mischief in his golden eyes. "The trunk and branches serve as the library, but the registry is where the roots are." His gaze went to the ground.</p><p>The amnesiac followed, letting out a shuddering breath. "As if this place needed to be any bigger…" The worst part was that he couldn't see how big the registry actually was. He started to doubt he would find his past today.</p><p>Yet the challenge did not compare to his excitement. If he did find it by some miracle, was he ready to learn about it? Oh, he wanted to know so badly, but actually reading it in front of him would be a different story. He had to prepare for the worst. His heart pounded as he tried conjuring up what the <em>worst</em> would be.</p><p>Gypsy took one of his hands, which had been clenched. "Flik, are you <em>absolutely</em> sure about this?" Her magenta eyes quivered with worry. "If you aren't ready, we can come back later, maybe even have the whole group behind you."</p><p>He shook his head quickly. "No, no, I'm fine," he insisted, albeit uneasily. "We're already here. Whatever happens, I can handle it." To emphasize, he straightened his back and puffed up his chest. "Let's go." He grabbed a knocker and pulled its door open.</p><p>Beyond it was a large room that looked carved from the inside of a tree. It was round, lined with lamps topped with golden carved leaves, and stairwells were on both sides. It was dark, save for the light from the windows on the wall behind, as well as the flickers from the lamps. Despite its size, the lobby was very sparsely decorated: having rows of chairs for waiting patrons, a few landscape paintings here and there, and a single large black desk manned by only one.</p><p>And Flik recognized the librarian. "Hey! You're the guy from the square!" the mechanic blurted, soon cringing at his volume in the lobby.</p><p>The man—Mr. Soil, if he remembered correctly—was just as surprised. "And you're the clown," he responded bewilderedly. In a moment, he cleared his throat. "I take it you've come to learn about your past."</p><p>"How did you know?"</p><p>"You were quite hopeful when you thought I recognized you. Seeing as you're here, it's only a natural assumption." He returned to his work, only peeking up to speak. "Now, what was it you were suffering from?"</p><p>"It's Dying Memory. Well, the after effects." Flik smacked a palm to his face over how quickly the words got out. He began to fidget. "Ever since I woke up, I've wanted to know who I was and what happened that left me outside the town. I know I didn't pop out of thin air, so that's why I'm here."</p><p>"I see you've put a lot of thought into this," said the librarian, still wary but accepting. Taking a sheet from his desk, he pushed it towards his guest. "And you're aware of the risks of such a revisit?"</p><p>Flik perked up. "Definitely!" he answered, skimming what he found to be a form documenting his visit. He filled it without a second thought. "I'm prepared for the worst."</p><p>"I suppose there's no reason to turn you away." Soil took the finished sheet and put it away. "Let us be off. Your caretakers may wait here." He rang a bell, summoning a woman to take over the desk, before making his way to the stairwell on the left.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, the amnesiac steeled himself. He felt unsteady, insecure. Everything was going to change as soon as he found out about his past. No matter how many of the worst scenarios he came up with—a heinous criminal, the last of his people, an orphan from another kingdom—he never felt prepared. What would he think? What would his friends think? Or Princess Atta—No, she would never know.</p><p>His foot hit the top step and he paused. The stairwell seemed to darken despite the candles dutifully lighting the way. Was this a registry or a mausoleum? Was he just a ghost looking for his grave?</p><p>"Flik," Gypsy called and time started moving again, "it'll be all right. We're here for you."</p><p>"You're ready," Manny added.</p><p>They were right. Everything the troupe did for him led up to moments like this. Now that he knew how it felt to finally reach the next stage, it would be a waste to back out. He descended.</p><p>The stairwell was narrow, only able to fit one person between its walls. The air was too warm, perhaps due to the candles lining the outer wall. The flames flickered and pulsed like curious ghosts watching librarian and guest, bouncing rhythmically to the sounds of shoes tapping against the stone steps. It was otherwise too quiet, but Flik couldn't bring himself to say a word. Whether it was nervousness or out of respect for the records laid to rest, he didn't care to know.</p><p>Yellow-orange light gave way to a soft rainbow at the bottom of the stairs, catching his eyes. Soon, he was no longer stepping down, but rather through an entrance into what he could only describe as a séance room. The walls were covered in dark curtains, the only pieces of furniture were a round table and a cushioned chair, and above the table floated a large, humming gem shaped and faceted like a diamond. Said gem was the source of the colorful light, the hues on its surface changing like waves.</p><p>"Please have a seat," Soil said, breaking the quiet. "This will be quick."</p><p>'So, what is all this?" Flik asked as he sat down.</p><p>"I assume you don't know your own birthday?" asked the librarian. "This crystal is designed to examine your soul and determine that very thing. Our records are all filed under dates of birth, so it will narrow the search considerably."</p><p>"How does it work?"</p><p>"It simply needs a sample of your soul."</p><p>At that, Flik grew wary. "A… sample? You mean it'll take a piece of me?"</p><p>"It's quite harmless and the chip will grow back in time, naturally. You have nothing to worry about," Soil assured him. "I assume you have been treated for your Dying Memory?"</p><p>"Of course, I have."</p><p>"The procedure isn't so different. Shall we begin?"</p><p>The amnesiac took a deep breath, steeling himself; and he nodded, closing his eyes as he heard the gem hum. He watched as smoke evaporated off the crystal, gathering into wisps that flowed towards him. Already, he could hear Manny telling him to close his eyes, but nobody could cover them nor admonish him for keeping them open. Curiosity kept his gaze on the wisps, even as they disappeared into his chest.</p><p>He pinpointed the moment when the familiar sting sprang up.</p><p>Flik choked as his hands gripped the armrests, trying not to curl in on himself. His eyes squeezed shut, he bit his lip, and his breathing became ragged.</p><p>The tendrils did not waver, trailing over unseen tender wounds without the gentleness only a person could provide. They were prodding, mainly around his heart, until he heard a soft <em>clink!</em> and felt a sharp sting. The wisps quickly retreated, and he opened his eyes to see them disappear into the crystal with a pulsating shard.</p><p>He sighed in relief now that it was over, and he watched as words and numbers materialized on the gem's surface, arranging themselves into a date format. "One, four, sixty-three. Is that my birth date?" he asked, reading and re-reading the numbers over and over in his mind. "The month is first, right?"</p><p>"...yes, it is."</p><p>Flik didn't think much of the bewildered tone. He was too focused on the fact that his <em>birth date</em>, the very first thing he learned about himself, was right before his eyes! "I was born in the winter, not summer at all," he muttered, fidgeting with excitement. "And that year… I'm nineteen! No one can say I'm five anymore!" He laughed giddily and jumped to his feet, only for a shock in his chest to bring him back down. "Ouch… Guess I got a little too excited there."</p><p>"That hurt you." It didn't sound like a question.</p><p>"Oh, it's no big deal. It's been that way for as long as I can remember."</p><p>It did nothing to ease the tension. "You're unstable." Again, a statement. "And you said you were treated by Dying Memory?"</p><p>"...yeah." The amnesiac noted the odd choice of words. "Why?"</p><p>Soil was horrified, and he grabbed the table to support himself. "This shouldn't be possible." He continued to stare as if he saw a ghost. "You must leave. Go home, rest, be anywhere but here."</p><p>It shouldn't have come as a surprise, but Flik was still taken aback by the man's urgency. "What? No, I can't leave yet," he said, gripping the armrests. "I know it looks bad—"</p><p>"You should thank your lucky stars that you can stand at all," Soil interrupted. "If even that spell couldn't help you, I shudder to think of what a hard truth will do." Now he didn't make sense at all.</p><p>"Hold on, what do you mean by 'help?'" Flik questioned. "Isn't Dying Memory the cause of all this?"</p><p>The librarian quirked an eyebrow. "Your guardians never told you?" He pinched the bridge of his nose with a frustrated sigh. "Tell me, what <em>do</em> you know about the spell?"</p><p>"Only that it erases memories."</p><p>"But you don't know <em>why</em>." Soil was somber, guilty even. He looked a lot like Manny did when he was about to tell a difficult truth. "Then I will explain. You deserve at least that much." He took a deep breath and steadied himself. "Despite its dreadful name, Dying Memory is not meant to be a malicious spell. Its main purpose is to help someone move on: whether from a guilt-ridden life of crime or from severe trauma. Even then, we only allow it as a last resort." Seeming uncertain, in both gaze and voice, Soil continued: "It only works when both caster and recipient agree to it."</p><p>Flik didn't know what to think, except that he didn't want to believe it. "That can't be right. I would never want that." He stood, forgetting the aches, his hands grabbing his head as he started to pace. "What about all the good times I had? Family? Friends?" His blood ran cold and he stopped. "A lover? Why would I want to forget them?"</p><p>"I'm afraid that is only for your past self to know," Soil said sympathetically. "All I can guess is that you experienced a far greater trauma than could be fixed. For that, I am deeply sorry." He was sincere for once, and that troubled Flik. "The couple who came with you seem to care for you. Aren't you happy with them?"</p><p>"Y-yes, but—"</p><p>"Then you have all you need to move on, just as the spell intended." He gave the amnesiac an awkward pat on the shoulder. "Now, let's get you back to them."</p><p>"Wait a second." Flik pulled away. "You can't help me at all?"</p><p>Soil's politeness slipped slightly. "If you want to risk harming yourself further, I want no part of it."</p><p>"Okay, then nothing specific! How about…"</p><p><em>"Names are so much more than labels," </em>Princess Atta had told him. <em>"Your feelings, your hopes, and everything around you can influence the choice."</em></p><p>"Yeah, that should work. It can just be the first name," he muttered, his hands switching between tapping his chin or pretending to pass the idea between them. "I'm sure I can at least know that without relapsing. Might not help me right, but if someone knows both face and name then I'll finally get somewhere." He grinned and straightened. "It's perfect!"</p><p>Mr. Soil was taken aback. "What?"</p><p>"You can tell me what my name is, right?" Flik chirped, not fazed by the other's confusion. "It should be vague enough. I bet it's not even that special. So, uh, please?"</p><p>Thankfully, the man seemed to seriously consider it. The more time passed, the more he accepted the idea, until he started to nod. "I suppose that would be all right," he conceded slowly. "Just your name?"</p><p>"That's it."</p><p>Soil nodded, albeit still grim. "Very well. Wait here while I retrieve your records." He jolted a bit, hurriedly adding: "That is, if you were a citizen here."</p><p>"I'm not going, too?"</p><p>"We have many sensitive records. It's a matter of privacy," said the librarian stiffly. "Not to mention you could get lost."</p><p>Flik wanted to object, but held his tongue. He was already trying this man's patience as it was. "Can I… read the name for myself?"</p><p>"Nothing more." With that, the man finally left his side. He walked to the portion of the room opposite the entrance, pulling back the curtains to reveal a black door decorated with a leaf-shaped scroll.</p><p>A single wave later, the insignia glowed a matching green and released its own wisps.</p><p>He was a ways away, but Flik couldn't help the shiver as he witnessed the wisps surround Soil, reading him while he barely flinched. The tendrils weaved through him, prodding at times, even going as far as to take a piece of his soul and retreat into the scroll. He stayed still all the while, like they were nothing but smoke.</p><p>Harmless.</p><p>The phantom stings which hadn't subsided yet only emphasized the contrast, keeping it fresh even after the reading stopped and the librarian left the room. No one else dealt with them; even Manny's pain during the therapies was because of Flik. It never occurred to him that he wasn't supposed to <em>be</em> in pain, or that Dying Memory was supposed to fix it.</p><p>And he asked for it.</p><p>His brain crammed with questions, quaking just as much as his heart was. Everything he learned about the curse clashed with his own life. He was supposed to start his life over, but he was abandoned outside of town and with no clue how to start. Granted, his friends found him and took him in, but what if they hadn't? The spell would have been for nothing, and maybe it still was.</p><p>"<em>Ahem.</em>" The noise stopped his pacing a trench into the floor, and he saw Soil holding a rather thin book tightly in his hands. "It appears you were a citizen." His brows furrowed as he opened the book towards himself, skimming the very first page before giving him an almost pleading look. "Are you sure you want to know? I must warn you: you won't like what you see."</p><p>Flik eyed the book impatiently, knowing his name was within reach. He was sure he could handle a mediocre or even a terrible name. Someone must have put thought into it, and that was what mattered. "Show me."</p><p>Resigned, the librarian turned the book around.</p><p>The page was spare, only containing a head portrait of Flik's younger self and two lines beneath. The first thing he noticed was that his appearance didn't change much, though his past self apparently had a neat ponytail as opposed to his current wings. Next, he saw his date of birth, and it still gave him shivers to finally know it. But then he got to his name, and he stopped with a gasp. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing correctly, reading everything clearly. Everything else was clear; his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.</p><p>Throughout his waking life, he wondered what his past had been like, including the worst case scenarios. He could accept being some criminal, a sole survivor, an unlucky stumbler, or even someone who never had a family. Learning his real name should have been a walk in the park. It would have been, but that line on the page was <em>blank</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Eaten Breadcrumbs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
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        <em>The sun had long since set and the only light now came from the moon, stars, lamps, and the fireplace in the middle of the circus camp. They were packing up, getting ready to move on to perform at the next town or village. Everyone had a hand in either unpinning the caravans or loading up the possessions, everyone except for one. The youngest and newest member of the troupe watched them through the window, bedridden within the magician's caravan. Since last night, he had been borrowing the bed and was practically confined to it.</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>He laid on his stomach, his head perched on elbow-supported hands, observing the others carrying equipment to and fro or hitching their wagons to waiting horses. They moved with a fluidity that he envied in his current state. It wasn't that moving was painful, but he felt an overwhelming emptiness inside that sapped his strength. He felt holes all over his body, or maybe his bones were made of twigs, and one wrong move could snap him. The magician said something about a fragile soul, but he was sparse on the details about the how or why. In fact, everyone seemed to treat him like glass.</em>
      </p><p><em>The caravan suddenly quaked and his face hit the pillow with a soft </em>pffu! <em>and an annoyed groan.</em></p><p>"<em>Careful!" he heard the magician's wife—Gypsy?—scold. Her face appeared at the window just as he rolled onto his back, her magenta eyes peering down at him. "Are you all right, Flik?"</em></p><p>
        <em>It took him a bit to take in the unfamiliar name, what they would call him from now on. "I-I'm okay, it's just a little shake," he said, giving her a reassuring grin.</em>
      </p><p>"<em>Oh, good." She smiled warmly in return.</em></p><p>
        <em>The caravan shook again, though less strongly. "Finally," sighed the oddly masculine voice belonging to a strangely pretty clown. "That should be the last of 'em. We can start heading out."</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>Uncomfortable, the amnesiac bit his lip. "Do we have to go now?" he asked timidly. "W-we can wait a bit longer, right? Maybe they're running late or—"</em>
      </p><p>"<em>It's far past sunset…" Gypsy didn't need to say more.</em></p><p>No one was coming.</p><p>
        <em>And he was...</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>As far as he was certain, he should be devastated. It meant he was all alone, either a sole survivor or simply abandoned. He was disappointed, of course, but that was the extent of it. Maybe there was a hint of something else, but it was quickly snuffed out before he could grasp what it was. For the most part, he just felt empty.</em>
      </p><p>"<em>Flik?" Her brows furrowed after his own face twisted. "You don't like the name?"</em></p><p>"<em>That's not it!" he denied quickly, fidgeting. "Well—err—maybe? I don't know. It's… It doesn't sound right. I know it's weird, how can I know what sounds right? I can't explain it at all."</em></p><p>"<em>You don't have to," she assured him. "If you want, we can pick something else out for you."</em></p><p>
        <em>He grimaced again. "I'd rather you don't." Now he could feel it: that fleeting displeasure. "I think I dislike that one the least, but how can that be?" He bit his lip, trying to make sense of the oddity. For some reason, the subject of his name seemed to matter more than the idea of abandonment. "It's not like I'd know if it's the closest to my real name, unless..."</em>
      </p><p>"<em>That does sound odd," Gypsy hummed, interrupting his train of thought. "We should defer to an expert." She turned away and visibly perked up. "Oh, Manny! Could you come here for a bit?"</em></p><p>
        <em>A green head of hair joined her at the window. "Is something the matter?" he asked tentatively, golden eyes glancing down at the boy. "Do you feel ill?"</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>The amnesiac shook his head. "We were just talking about my name, the one you gave me." He started fidgeting as the elder stared. It might take a while to get used to those piercing eyes. "I don't like it very much, but everything else sounds worse. I'm trying to understand why."</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>"Still yourself, my boy," said a bemused Manny. "If it helps, I do not find it very odd."</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>"Really? But—"</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>"Are you a child or an animal, who would accept any name?" asked the magician. "You may be a blank slate, but you're still of age to form an opinion. See, it hasn't even been a day, yet you're trying to make sense of your world." He drummed his fingers rhythmically on the windowsill, creating a smooth and calming string of sound. "You will get used to it, my boy. At the very least, you may consider your name an important memento of your past. It was the last memory to fade, after all."</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>Flik, having nothing to stand on, had no choice but to accept this.</em>
      </p>
<hr/><p>Empty spaces were particularly deceptive. They seemed like nothing at first glance, but context was the key to unlocking their secrets. For instance, an empty house meant no one was there, but dusty and rotting furniture would suggest it was abandoned. Likewise, the line where Flik's real name should have been hid three truths in plain sight:</p><p>Number one: he didn't have a family who cared to name him.</p><p>Number two: he didn't care to give himself a name.</p><p>Number three: he forgot something—or some<em>one</em> very important.</p><p>These revelations had shocked him so much that he did not resist when he was led out of the crystal room; out of the registry; and probably off the grounds. He couldn't make out the shapes nor the sounds, his mind too busy wrangling the questions forming because no one could tell him anything clearly—no, it was much worse than that. After waiting so long for answers, he only ended up losing the only clue to his past, and the nature of Dying Memory meant nothing else would ever come to him.</p><p>He should have known better than to expect anything. From the first day of his new life, he was denied much of what others had: a birth family, a right to the truth, and now his own name. If not for the records in the registry, he would have thought someone was trying to erase his existence. Someone must have hated him enough to do… whatever horrified the librarian so much.</p><p>A stubborn piece of himself demanded that he think about what he learned, but he didn't think he could take it anymore. How much longer can he speculate about his past when he can never find out? How much longer will it take before he was stable enough to handle the crystal, if he got another chance at all? Why couldn't he be satisfied with the life he had now and move on? Why couldn't he accept the name his friends gave him?</p><p>"Manny, he hasn't said anything since we left. I don't think he was ready."</p><p>"He isn't trembling, but let us keep watch over him."</p><p>Flik grimaced, remembering that Manny and Gypsy were there and wouldn't leave him alone. He became aware of a hand on his back, moving him to wherever they were walking to. When he blinked, he saw the cobblestone ground moving under three pairs of feet. He heard flowing water next, causing him to look up and spot a fence separating them from a sparkling river. On the other side were rows of buildings painted blue, dark brown, or white in no specific order; they reminded him of a village harbor.</p><p>He never saw this place before. "Where are we?" he asked, hating how shaken he sounded.</p><p>"We're at the river promenade," Gypsy answered cheerfully, as if she wasn't just fretting over him. "It's the quietest road home, unless you wanted to stop somewhere?"</p><p>Home? He wasn't sure he wanted to go home yet. "Actually, it probably can't hurt to explore," he said cheerfully, hoping it would distract from his troubles. "Since we're out here, and I'm not on the run, why not check out some places? We don't have to go back now, right?"</p><p>"No, I suppose not," Manny said with a nod.</p><p>"Great! Let's see…" Flik tapped his head. "Oh! How about a smithy? I'm surprised I've never gone there once."</p><p>"That would be the first place you'd go to, wouldn't it?" And they wasted no time flying him to search for one, easily found thanks to the telltale smoke coming from an outdoor forge.</p><p>Flik was initially excited, watching the blacksmith hammer what appeared to be a single red-hot, ridged block. He, of course, knew better what was happening. Those were dozens of metal alloy sheets being hammered into one; a strong tool in the making. It was a kind of magic even he could comprehend and, with enough time, master for himself.</p><p>The longer he watched however, as the ridges disappeared and a perfect brick took shape, he wondered if he ever made a tool himself. If his past self was anything like he was now, he might have been a regular if not an apprentice. It didn't matter now, because that life was gone. His thoughts became bitter as he counted the notches on one of the poles, eyed the forge that was now a mosaic of both cracked and polished stones, and even tapped his foot in time with every clang of the blacksmith's hammer. Did these things matter to him before?</p><p>It must have shown on his face, because Gypsy dragged him away from the forge. "How about we do some shopping?"</p><p>"W-wait, when was our last pay day?" His wallet still hurts from buying paints.</p><p>"Don't worry about it! Just let us know if you want something."</p><p>"I'd rather pay for it myself…" he said halfheartedly, too late to reach her, so he let her lead him.</p><p>It was just his luck that there would be a stall showcasing gadgets. As he picked up a spoon-shaped compass, he questioned if he ever tried to recreate things like these. Physics was one of the things he caught up on quickly, and he couldn't imagine being interested in anything else. Then again, he couldn't recall any other experience, so he didn't know what it was like to grow out of it. How different was he now from the person he used to be?</p><p>He set down the compass and was promptly led away from the stall; he must have looked off again.</p><p>The place he was brought to next was much more soothing. It was a world of purple trees and blue flower patches occasionally speckled with green leaves. There were even wind chimes in some of the trees, making this park the perfect place for deep thoughts. It was here, in fact, that his musings rang the loudest, punctuated by the tingling of the bells. The purple colors especially resonated with him, reminding him too much of Princess Atta. He could still see the shine in her eyes when she beheld her repaired music box; hear the outrage at the idea of forgetting her lover's name; feel how much she longed for him years after he was gone. There was no doubt that if she could, she would do anything to reunite with him.</p><p>Did Flik—that sounded so weird now—have someone who missed him like that?</p><p>He froze in his tracks. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, the questions crammed in his mind tripping in his throat. He crossed his arms and stiffened, oddly worried that his soul would unravel where he stood.</p><p>"Flik?"</p><p>He flinched and took a sharp breath. "That's not my name…" His words sounded watery; he hiccuped. "I never... h-had one."</p><p>"Well, who says you had to go by your past name?"</p><p>"But th-that means I was... u-using someone else's?" No, that didn't sound right at all, but he would never know why. The answers were gone. He gave them up, and he could never get them back. "I don't know. I don't know anymore." His name, or what he thought was his name, was nothing but noise from a treasured memory. He had woken up at a dead end.</p><p>What was he going to do now?</p><p>
        <em>Cr-!</em>
      </p><p>Why did he feel this way?</p><p>
        <em>Cr-!</em>
      </p><p>What was that sound?</p><p>
        <em>Crack!</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>...crumble…</em>
      </p><p>Suddenly, he felt cold lines on his face and he reached up to wipe them away. His sleeves became damp and useless within minutes, and they only served to spread the chill to his hands and wrists. The lines became sheets in his frustration. His knees buckled and ached. In the brief glances beyond his arms, he saw the couple were much taller. He realized instantly that it was because he was on his knees, unable to keep standing.</p><p>Manny dropped to his level and grabbed his shoulders. "Flik! Are you all right?!"</p><p>Gypsy threw her cloak over him. "Does anything hurt?!"</p><p>Now that they mentioned it, he hadn't felt any of the pressure that would normally bear down on his damaged soul when he learned something new. He felt hopelessness, loss, even the grip of despair; but nothing that he could describe as a stick trying to hold up a brick. In other words, he was nowhere close to relapsing.</p><p>He wasn't where he hoped to be, but he wasn't all the way back in square one.</p><p>"Flik?"</p><p>For some reason, that caused more tears to fall. "What's wrong with me?" he finally said, letting himself sniffle. "I was the one who wanted to go. Even if the truth hurts, isn't it better to know?"</p><p>"You're still allowed to mourn, my boy." Manny's grip loosened, relaxed and relieved. "You've done well, enduring as you have today."</p><p>A sob escaped. "I think I f-forgot something very important..."</p><p>Gypsy patted at the tears with her handkerchief. "It's not your fault, dear."</p><p>He was too tired to hold back. They covered him so he didn't have to.</p>
<hr/><p>"So, we're <em>not</em> gonna jump out and yell 'Surprise!' at him?" Dot asked, disappointed. She wanted to see the happy-shocked look on Flik's face when he saw the party arrangements, small as they seemed. The only party-like things there were a few blue and white streamers between caravans and the cake Atta helped her decorate; and the only guests were the circus troupe, Dot, and her squad of guards. It was looking to be more of a gathering than a party, but she honestly preferred it to the grand celebrations in the castle.</p><p>"Since it's taking them longer than usual to get back, it's probably not a good idea," Francis said, looking bothered. His head snapped toward the cake, or the person next to it. "Heimlich, get away from there."</p><p>"But it looks so good!" the large clown gushed.</p><p>"And it'll stay that way if you don't touch it."</p><p>Dot giggled and looked back towards the town. "Why is jumping out a bad idea?"</p><p>"It's quite a private matter," said Slim as he attached a stray streamer to the blue and green caravan, "but I guess you can say he won't be in the right spirits. Yes, let's leave it at that."</p><p>The princess wasn't satisfied, but she guessed she'd rather ask Flik himself what happened. "Okay."</p><p>"Is everything ready?" Rosie asked, surveying the camp. "There are the streamers, the cake, the berry water. All we need to do now is wait." She spotted the funny-sounding twins roughhousing and—"Hold it!"—lassoed them away when they rolled too close to the cake and water. She sent a smile at Dot. "You look a little bored, Your Highness. I'm sure Dim would be happy to give you a ride while you wait." She gestured to the rhinoceros, who trotted over to her side.</p><p>Now Dot perked up. "Really?" she scampered to the beast, who lowered himself and leaned toward her to let her up. She summoned her wings to help her as well, though the most she could do was hover. Eventually, she was sitting on the rhino's back, "He's so cool! Better than horses!"</p><p>Dim let out a series of snorts that sounded a little like a laugh.</p><p>"That's not the best part," the spider lady said. She patted the rhino's horn. "Dim, what do you say after someone says something nice about you?"</p><p>He nodded, wiggling his ears happily. A deep, gentle voice rumbled out: "Thank you."</p><p>"Cool!" Dot leaned down until she was lying flat on his back. "I'm keeping him."</p><p>"Sorry kiddo, but he's not house-trained yet," Rosie said with a wink. She turned toward the town suddenly. "Oh, here they come!"</p><p>Dot saw them just as they landed, and she tapped Dim's side with her shoe. "Mush!" He started to trot towards them, then she noticed something was off.</p><p>Flik looked small, and it wasn't just because she was looking at him from atop a rhinoceros. He was curling in on himself, and maybe the only reason he was walking was because of the two people—his parents?—holding him up. His bangs covered his face, too. He was sad, she realized, so surprising him really would be a bad idea.</p><p>The clowns raced up to him next, with Francis being the first to speak. "Hey, kid, you okay?" He must have seen something, because he winced.</p><p>"Y-yeah, just had a rough day," Flik said, lifting his head a little. His eyes looked red. They didn't suit him at all. "You were all waiting for me?"</p><p>"And an extra guest," Francis snarked, pointing at Dot. "She invited herself."</p><p>Heimlich piped: "But she brought a wunderbar cake. That vill make everything better."</p><p>"Yeah, that too."</p><p>Flik noticed her then, the sadness replaced by a mild surprise. "Dot? What are you doing here?"</p><p>"To celebrate your birthday. Duh," the princess answered, trying to be cheerful. "You better have some! Atta and I put a lot of work into decorating it."</p><p>His eyes brightened for a bit, but the spark went by so quickly that she almost thought she imagined it. "O-oh, wow, I don't know what to say."</p><p>"You can start," Slim said, nudging him forward, "by trying to enjoy the rest of your birthday. It doesn't have to be very long."</p><p>Singing the song was kind of awkward, but Flik was acting normal after everyone (even the guards; apparently the cake was too much for most of the troupe) got their slices. Other than that, the party went off almost as Dot expected. It was a humble gathering of friends that happened to have streamers and cake. It was cozy, warm, and nostalgic.</p><p>When she closed her eyes, she could almost see a faint candlelight on top of a piece of bread. She remembered sitting on a creaking wooden chair, facing a ragged bed with a boy holding the bread and blowing out the light. His face was mostly in shadow, but his smile was still there and it was apologetic.</p><p>"<em>Sorry I don't have a better place, Dot."</em></p><p>She could have sworn she heard it, but the voice was all wrong.</p><p>Wait.</p><p>Dot's eyes blinked open, hit completely by the sunset. She shielded her face and looked away, seeing Flik had taken a seat next to her. In his hands was a plate of cake, and it had one of the light blue pansies on it.</p><p>His smile was also apologetic. "Whoops."</p><p>"It's okay! I like these kinds of parties better," Dot assured, digging into her own slice. "Do you like the cake? I think it's called Black Forest."</p><p>"It's a bit much," he admitted, turning the plate, "but it's good. And is that a pansy?"</p><p>"Yeah, that was Atta's idea."</p><p>His eyes became fond again. "I see…" Out of nowhere, he cringed and blushed all at once. "I'll… uh… focus on the flower's meaning." His cheeks only got redder and he chuckled nervously. He pulled at his shirt collar. "I'm sure she doesn't mean that either…"</p><p>While he was distracted, Dot smirked to herself as a sinister plan formed in her head. She snuck her hand under his plate and, like the catapult he was making when they met, smacked the plate straight into his face. The fork went flying to parts unknown and, after a few seconds, the plate dropped to reveal a flustered mess of cake and the flower glued to matching hair via frosting.</p><p>She burst into laughter. "You should see your face!" Next thing she knew, vengeful frosting-covered fingers were drawing lines on her own cheeks. "Hey!" she protested and squirmed, but still giggled. Even though there was now cake on her own face, she could tell he was trying not to get it anywhere else.</p><p>He withdrew his hands and, without bothering to wipe them off, rested them on his sides while admiring his handiwork. "Aw, you look cute with whiskers," he teased before he dissolved into laughs himself.</p><p>Something started to click and the world around her darkened, and it wasn't from the sun disappearing into the hills.</p><p>
        <em>Dot was much smaller now, kneeling on the shabby bed behind her brother and braiding his hair while he sat patiently. It was something she saw the maids do sometimes and she wanted to try it because the braids looked so pretty. Her small, clumsy hands would lose a strand here or there, but she thought she could just pin them down with flowers later and everything would be fine.</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>The braid looked horrible, but she liked it when she was little. "Okay! Look!"</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>He lifted up a mirror, moved his braid over his shoulder, and laughed. It kind of reminded her of a crow, but much more cheerful and lighter.</em>
      </p><p>"<em>It's not funny!" she protested, beating her fists harmlessly against his green leaf-patterned vest, the kind all servants in the castle wore.</em></p><p>"<em>No, no, I'm laughing because I love it," he told her. "Thanks, Dot."</em></p><p>Everything darkened once again, and she was thrust into a more terrifying sight.</p><p>
        <em>She was in the hallway, watching the guards force someone to walk. It was scary, because that didn't look comfortable and they only really did that to bad guys. But she was frozen from fear and curiosity and she wanted to know why they were taking someone away from the tower that Atta lived in.</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>Then the bad guy tripped and the bag covering his head fell off.</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>Terrified blue eyes met her own.</em>
      </p><p>
        <em>What were they doing to her brother?!</em>
      </p><p>"<em>F-F—" she squeaked, but couldn't get his name out. When the guards forced him back up, she pulled at one of their legs. "St-stop! You're hurting him!" One of them pushed her away, but not too roughly. She was a princess, after all. "Stop it!"</em></p><p>"<em>D-Dot, it's okay." His voice was so soft, but it didn't make sense. "I've just been bad, and they're putting me in time-out." He smiled at her—</em>for her—<em>but he was crying. "We can go out for bread tomorrow, okay? To say sorry for scaring you."</em></p><p>"<em>No…"</em></p><p>"<em>I'll see you tomorrow..." They dragged him away.</em></p><p>"<em>LET HIM GO!"</em></p><p>"Dot?" She blinked and saw Flik worriedly waving at her. "You okay? You kinda spaced out. Did I scare you?"</p><p>She barely listened, only focusing on his eyes. There was something nostalgic about them, just like everything else about him. <em>He</em> was familiar, but she wasn't familiar to him. That meant they couldn't be the same person, but their eyes were alike and they both acted the same around her and treated her the same. Shakily, she reached out and pushed back his hair wings, flattening them as they would be if they were tied back.</p><p>Her head panged and she let go.</p><p>"Dot?!"</p><p>"I-I'm okay," she mumbled. "I think… I think I should go home now."</p><p>Flik took off his vest and handed it to her. "Here, clean your face first."</p><p>"Thanks." Dot wiped off the icing, and then leaned forward to give him a hug. The memories hurt, but she didn't want to worry about that now. This was her friend's day. "Happy birthday."</p><p>He awkwardly patted her back. "Thanks for the cake, and thank Princess Atta for me, too."</p><p>"Okay." She didn't want to let go, but her head was pounding and she couldn't stay. Maybe talking with Atta would help. She always knew what to do. "B-bye." The guards escorted her back to the castle, and her headache didn't leave until her head hit her pillow.</p></div></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Closeness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For the record, listen to "8 Melodies" from Mother/Earthbound 0.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Snap!</em> The wooden wing in her hand suddenly felt lighter, and Atta found herself staring at a broken connecting rod on her desk. She was so lost in thought that she must have pressed too hard on the poor thing. Now she was glad she decided to prioritize the shape of the whole piece rather than texture the wing as soon as that was done. It wasn't unsalvageable, but she would have to leave it as extra scrap.</p><p>Setting everything down and aside, she decided it was time for a break. Her eyes landed on a finished version of what she was trying to work on: an orange, hollow wooden bird whose wings flapped when air went through it. She had yet to figure out how it could do such a thing without being spun around, since it was meant to be dangled on a string. Once she finished her own version, would it perform just as perfectly? Without any blueprints or notes, she could only try to study the visible details and hope that she could recreate it well enough.</p><p>Now, though, she needed to get through the setback.</p><p>"What happened?" asked a half-hearted Dot.</p><p>"I… may need to start something over."</p><p>"Oh…" The younger princess returned to staring out the window, most likely at the abandoned garden house just below.</p><p>She hadn't been the same since the party. Atta was suspicious when Dot didn't visit her after returning, and she got her answer the next day when, with a telescope, she saw her sister standing at the castle gates. It was around the usual time she would hurry to the bakery, yet she was frozen mid-step as in a curse. Dot was not normally someone to give up, but on that day she dropped her basket and went back to the castle. Her march was a defeated one.</p><p>Not that Atta could fault her when she herself hadn't gotten back into the normal routine either. It was both humorlessly funny and frustrating how three nights of indulgence could undo five years of acceptance and relative docileness.</p><p>When you give an inch, they take a mile.</p><p>Cornelius, the Queen's advisor, once warned Mother with this phrase against letting the eldest princess traverse the castle gardens, even if watched. It was a reminder that she wasn't trusted, that most believed she had no self-control. Years ago, she resented it, but now she could not refute it.</p><p>On the first night after, she almost flew to the lake out of habit. Luckily, the repaired music box reminded her that she had no need to go anymore, and no one would be waiting for her anyway. She remembered feeling relief, having the box play her favorite tune until she dozed off. With it came a renewed appreciation for what was already her precious keepsake.</p><p>The following day was tolerable, maybe even freeing. There were no more secrets to hide, no plans to pretend not to have. All she needed to do was to stay quiet, not bring anything up, and not overthink. Time went by smoothly when she kept to those rules, but of course the peace wouldn't last.</p><p>She woke in the middle of that night falling out of bed, stricken by a night terror. Her fingers tangling in her sheets were at least enough to ground her to reality, but her mind overtook her sight and all she could see was Flik lying motionless on the lakeshore. It took until sunrise to recall that he was alive and well, that she didn't stand frozen while the light left his eyes. However, the guilt didn't leave her even as she managed to doze off and salvage what was left of the slumbering hours. From the worry on Mother's face as she saw her, she still hadn't slept enough.</p><p>Last night, she was restless. Though she desperately needed sleep, Flik's dulled eyes haunted her, daring her to put them from her memory. With so many hours left until day, she had plenty of time to think about what they meant. Both back then and in the nightmare, they pleaded in vain for help she didn't know how to give. He never did bring it up again, did he? Atta never really forgot, but he carried on like there was nothing to worry about.</p><p>Like it was <em>normal</em>.</p><p>He smiled so brightly that it was easy to forget. And from what she saw of him and the clowns, he was comfortable. As far as she could remember, he hadn't breathed a bad word about anyone from the circus, but he hadn't said much about his life anyway. He usually let her take the lead, and she hadn't thought to ask about him. She barely knew anything about the present him, and realizing it felt awful. He hadn't changed much, so she couldn't put it past him to only be grateful to the circus, no matter how they treated him.</p><p>But grateful was not the same as happy, and he needed to be happy and <em>loved</em> in order to heal. He never was one to bring attention to his needs. What if he needed help and she abandoned him?</p><p>But if she stayed any longer and they got caught…</p><p>
  <em>Her outstretched hand grasped air as they wrenched him away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Desperation.</em>
</p><p><em>He was begging to be saved</em>.</p><p>"Did I really do the right thing?"</p><p>"Atta, maybe you should take a break," Dot's concerned voice called to her. "You haven't moved in a while." She was leaning on the desk, having long since abandoned her post by the window. "I guess you've been having it tough, too."</p><p>"Yes, I suppose you could say that," admitted the elder princess, leaning back into her seat. "It's been a very long week."</p><p>Humming, Dot rested her head on the desk. "You first."</p><p>"It's nothing you haven't heard before," Atta said, averting her eyes and trying to wave her off. "But whatever's on your mind must be more urgent, right?" An idea, an opportunity struck. If she could only hear that Flik was doing well, then there should be nothing to worry about. "You know, you never did tell me how the party went. Was everything okay?" The unspoken question lingered on the tip of her tongue.</p><p>"It was good. Everybody was really nice and I had fun," Dot replied distantly. "I didn't stay very long, though. My head started hurting really bad and..." She bit her lip, like she had just messed up and wasn't sure how to break the news. "I think I saw something really important."</p><p>Atta tensed, and now she was the one who didn't know what to say. In hindsight, she should have expected this. Being exposed to the very piece missing in Dot's memories was bound to rouse them. It was her own mind that blocked them out, after all; they weren't erased. If she continued to visit Flik, she was inevitably going to find out the truth. Not from him, but she was eventually going to push past her blockade, no matter how much it hurt.</p><p>Her heart would break again.</p><p>"Did you remember something new?" Atta needed to know more before coming up with a plan. Anyone else would try to deflect or dismiss, but she knew better. If no one was going to help her, Dot was going to try to fix things herself. Yet she was also still a child, and she would more likely listen to someone who understood her. With this in mind, Atta had no problem being that beacon, and now she needed to know where her sister stood and lead her away. Change the sail just slightly and the boat will veer off course.</p><p>Dot perked up, taking the bait. "I think I did! Two things!" The way her hands flailed to and fro was nostalgic. "I know the first one really well. I was braiding my caretaker's hair, and he had a really funny laugh! Like a happy crow."</p><p>Atta furrowed her brow. Did he really sound like a crow? "And what else?" she asked, brushing the thought aside. This one was another fond memory, probably harmless.</p><p>Instantly, the energy seemed to fade. "The other one… It's not coming back to me, not really. I think I saw what he looked like? I don't know. Everything up until I got home is kinda blurry."</p><p>There it was; she knew all too well what Dot saw. "This was what caused your headache, right? Is it really okay to keep going like this?"</p><p>"I'm not afraid of a headache," Dot said, though she didn't sound sure. "It's just weird that I forgot about my best friend, everything except some stuff we did together. We didn't fight, we didn't grow apart, and I know he wouldn't leave without a goodbye." Her mouth wobbled a little. "What if something happened to him? What if he's hurting and the longer it takes to remember means I can't help him?"</p><p>The hardest part about knowing was pretending not to know. Of course it broke Atta's heart to see that her own mistakes ended up hurting the two people she cared about most, that time hadn't dampened the wounds. The best way to protect them was to make sure the blanks remained blanks, but that didn't mean it wasn't painful to see how lost and confused they were over what wasn't their fault. Everyone was helpless in their own cages and outside of each other's.</p><p>The idea that came to her was risky, but it would at least ease some of her sister's pain. As long as she kept a close eye, nothing substantial should change. "Well, maybe we can find some clues at the Hydrangea House."</p><p>The shock caused Dot to jolt, a much needed distraction from her almost-tears. "Really? But I thought you said we should leave things how the owner left them."</p><p>Atta bit her lip. "I know, but maybe we do need to move some things around," she said, eying her music box and all its improvements. "Besides, your caretaker is the understanding type, right? I'm sure he'd be happy that you care about him."</p><p>The younger princess' smile returned to her, and she threw her arms around her sister. "You're the best, Atta!" She was bouncing on her feet when she let go. "When do we go? Can it be after my lessons? You can help me with things I can't reach!" In her excitement, her wings popped out and she hovered, albeit for a few seconds. They disappeared when she showed signs of worry. "Wait, how are you gonna convince Mom to let you go? The house isn't important to you."</p><p>"But <em>you</em> are, and Mother makes exceptions where it matters." Atta's own smile turned wry with irony. "I'll try to meet with you as soon as I can. Don't start without me, okay? I'm usually better at putting things back in order."</p><p>That seemed enough for Dot. "Yeah, okay! I can't wait!" Active again, she made for the door. "I'm gonna bother Mr. Soil and make him start lessons early! Don't be too late!" she called before leaving, slamming the door in her zealousness. "Sorry!" followed afterwards.</p><p>Without Dot's positivity, Atta was hit by a wave of anxiety. Maybe she overstepped, maybe she was going to ruin everything. She could have simply held her kid sister and comfort her like she had done time and time again. Those tears would dry. They could have carried on like normal and she would know for sure that nothing was going to change. What possessed her to put out such an idea?</p><p>Pressing her hands against her mouth did nothing to slow the pace of her breathing. Already she could see a squadron of guards marching to the fairgrounds, seeking out a very confused Flik. Would the circus folk try to protect him? What would the charges be? Would he blame her? Would that betrayal be enough to cause him to writhe in pain, alone in a cell?</p><p>What had she done?</p><p>The cursed song rang and she grabbed at her head, wishing she could claw it out. That floating rock must be sensing her distress, but of course it wouldn't get the hint and stop playing the one thing it played throughout her life. Only… there was something weird about it this time. There was a different arrangement in the notes, and it faded out and faded back in at times. Was it trying to change its tune? Why? And to what?</p><p>There was so much to think about, she couldn't take it. Atta grit her teeth, played her music box, and grabbed her sculpting knife and a new block of wood. While she was stuck in her room, she was going to have to channel all her frustration into her work. There was still a setback to deal with.</p>
<hr/><p>A few days weren't enough for everything to go back to normal. It didn't stop Flik from wishing that was all it took. For what little he learned, there was a lot to swallow, and the human body could only take so much at once. It was a matter of replacing years of speculation with their own worth of implications, but the latter took up so little space. He could feel it taking a toll on him, plaguing him with the unpleasant sensation of erosion. The emptiness that came afterwards was the kind of familiarity he gladly would have done without.</p><p>The only thing left now was the book at the library, which was out of reach for maybe another few years, if his slow healing was anything to go by. That was assuming he'd be allowed to see it in full once he was whole again. Meanwhile, he was stuck without any more leads, the one clue he thought he had could be of anything from a sentence to a sound; it was useless in the long run. The revelation hurt more than it ought to, but the only solace he did have was that he could stand it now. Since that day, Manny hadn't found anything out of the ordinary, though 'ordinary' was a relative term at this point.</p><p>Again, Flik thought about Princess Atta and how fluttery he felt around her. There was no doubt now that she had something to do with it. What did it mean now that they were no longer meeting? He wouldn't be able to answer any questions if the effect turned out to be temporary. She trusted him to keep her a secret, but she didn't know what was wrong with him. Would she understand if he had no choice? If his soul started to regress or even relapse? It would have to be as a last resort; he won't consider the idea otherwise.</p><p>Then he remembered that he shouldn't have had to think about such things. If Mr. Soil was right, then Dying Memory was supposed to leave a clean slate, not a broken one. The curse was his last hope, and it was all for nothing.</p><p>At any other time he would have hyperventilated, but the tune that had been stuck in his head for days now broke through his spiraling thoughts. It flowed out of him when he hummed, taking the tension with it into the air. The lullaby provided no answers, but it calmed and grounded him just the same. It reminded him that there was work to do, that he was at the circus tent and he was supposed to finish maintenance on the cannon.</p><p>With a sigh that finished both song and storm, he poured more oil onto a washrag and crawled into the cannon to grease the inside. He needed to reduce the friction as much as possible. Ideally, there should have been a large swab, but he hadn't had the time to find the right lightweight wood to make one. In the meantime, he would have to make do with diving in, which wasn't so bad as long as—</p><p>"Aah!" The cannon suddenly lifted up, swallowing him like a pelican did a fish. He managed to shield his head from hitting the springing board, but now the narrow space and slippery walls rendered him stuck. "Uh… Little help? Anyone?" he called, trying to move into a less uncomfortable position. The ground shook with large, lumbering footsteps. "Dim? Is Rosie with you?" Much to his annoyance, he got no answer save for creaking wood. He was about to call out again, but then he heard a grunt. The board surged forward, shooting him out of his prison—"AAAAH!"—and into a waiting safety web.</p><p>"Less than fifteen seconds. Still got it," he heard Rosie giggle.</p><p>His blood still rushed from the not-quite-near-death experience, and nervous chuckles mixed with Flik's words. "Y-you really couldn't just pull me out of the cannon?" Untangling himself from the silken hammock, he slid down one of the hanging lines. "I haven't even finished oiling it."</p><p>"If you can hit the net, then I think you're done," she said dismissively. "How long have you been in here?"</p><p>"Um… Since dawn, I think?" His feet hit the ground.</p><p>"A long time, then. It's past noon." Rosie hummed and strode around the ring, looking upwards. "The silks rigging felt smoother than usual, looks like you fixed the wheels under one of the spotlights, and then there's cannon maintenance... Are those new pulleys, too?" She walked up to one of the stands and pressed a foot against it. "You even fixed the creaks. Did you take any breaks at all?"</p><p>"Of course I did!" But his stomach apparently decided right then that it was a good idea to make him a liar.</p><p>She smirked at him. "That's what I thought. It's not healthy to skip meals."</p><p>"I didn't skip. The dinner last night is just picking up the sla—Shut up!" he hissed when his stomach growled again.</p><p>Rosie chuckled and returned to shove a wrapped snack into his hands. "Here, that should keep it quiet." She stared expectantly until he opened the wrapping, revealing a meat bun. Her gaze continued to bore into him until he dug in. "Now, how about you join me and Dim for a shopping errand? You look like you need some sunlight, and we can get something that isn't some form of grain."</p><p>"But I just ate." The wrapping now sat folded in his hand.</p><p>"Some form of grain," she repeated. "You know it's not enough. Also"—she leaned forward and singsonged—"I'll even let you wander around a bit."</p><p>As if the offer hadn't been tempting enough, Dim gently nudged his horn against the mechanic and peered brightly. "Please?"</p><p>"I…" It would be a nice change of pace, and Flik couldn't keep moping around in the fairgrounds forever. One step forward was better than standing still. "All right, I'll come along. What's on the list?"</p><p>"The usual: salt, oil, rice, oats, whatever lasts a long time," the silk dancer recited, lifting a finger for each item. She heaved herself onto the rhino's back. "I think we're also running low on soap. And how stocked is your toolbox?"</p><p>Flik settled behind her. "Well enough," he answered. "I made sure to store up on parts after the last wheel broke."</p><p>"Oh, smart. We won't have to worry about any price changes there." One of her legs nudged the rhinoceros' side, and then they trotted out of the tent. "Have you ever thought of expanding those repair services of yours?"</p><p>"Well…" The music box flashed in his mind's eye. "I can imagine doing that."</p><p>"You should get your name out there, then," she continued. "Next time I open a stall, you should join me."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"I don't see why not, since you've come a long way." Rosie glanced over her shoulder. "There should be plenty of people needing things fixed. You might even meet someone who knew you."</p><p>Just like that, he crashed. "I don't want to think about that now."</p><p>She tensed, as if she stepped on something sharp. "I spoke too soon, didn't I? I'm sorry."</p><p>"Wha—No, don't be! You didn't know." Even though she couldn't see him, he put up his hands. "It's actually pretty silly. Making such a big deal about not having a name. Ha!" Neither Rosie nor Dim made a sound at that, which Flik appreciated, but now he knew they were waiting for him to explain. "Manny and Gypsy didn't say anything about that, huh?" Shaking heads. "I guess it's up to me. Funny thing is… is…" Spit it out already. Why is this so hard?</p><p>"You don't have to force yourself, honey."</p><p>"It's really no big deal."</p><p>"I'm pretty sure it <em>is</em> a big deal." Rosie turned a little more now, giving him her undivided attention and a comforting smile. "Besides, it wouldn't be the first time you got upset over not having a name."</p><p>"Really? When was the first?"</p><p>"When we first found you." Her smile grew sad as she reminisced. "You cried back then, too."</p><p>He blushed. "Too?"</p><p>"Don't think I didn't notice your eyes." Her finger tapped above his right eye. "I may not put as much thought into naming as you do," she said as a foot gave Dim an affectionate nudge, "but I can see how important it is to you."</p><p>"Was," he corrected. "I don't have a real name, so 'Flik' is… nothing now."</p><p>The silk dancer rolled her eyes. "That's not true. You're still 'Flik' to us, a cute little name for a cute little boy." She gave his face a harmless, though firm, pinch.</p><p>"Agh… I'm a man!" He swatted her hand away as she laughed. "I even know my birth date now, and I'm nineteen!"</p><p>"My, my, you <em>are</em> grown."</p><p>"Now you're just—" A spot of lilac drew his eyes to the far end of the road. Flik leaned to the side to get a better look, seeing a small hooded figure coming from the opposite side. He would know this newcomer anywhere if the hair color, height, and dress were anything to go by.</p><p>She noticed them as well, because she made a beeline towards them and stopped Dim in his tracks. "Hey! Long time no see!" Dot greeted, pulling her hood back.</p><p>"Hey Dot." Flik slid to the ground, relieved to see her bright eyes. Whatever had bothered her last time must have passed. "How have you been?"</p><p>"Feeling better! That's why I'm out here." She gave Dim a pat on the horn and waved up at Rosie. "Hi, Miss Rosie!"</p><p>"Hey kiddo," she waved and smiled, albeit concerned, "you're a ways away from home."</p><p>At this, Flik checked down the road for any sign of armor. "You came all this way alone?"</p><p>"Uh…" She looked down at her feet, one of which dug into the dirt. "Well, I hadn't come to visit in a while and the guards were taking too long, so I…"</p><p>It wasn't a promising answer, but he had to admire her free-spiritedness. He couldn't resist patting her head, careful not to undo her twintails. "It's good you can do things on your own, but a lot of people will worry if something happened to you," he chided.</p><p>"But nothing happened, and you showed up so I didn't have to go very far," Dot reasoned with a giggle, then she grabbed his hand and tugged so he knelt to her level. "Besides, I really needed your help."</p><p>"Oh? With what?" he asked to humor her.</p><p>Apparently disregarding how much harder it was to walk on one knee, she led him to the edge of the road and lowered her voice. "Searching for clues!" For added effect, she pulled a hand lens from her pocket and held it to her eye.</p><p>"Clues, huh? What mystery are we trying to solve?"</p><p>"Why my caretaker disappeared."</p><p>All playfulness left him. "Disappeared?"</p><p>"Oh, I guess I never mentioned it," she said sheepishly. "Yeah, he disappeared. Nobody wants to talk about him, so I'm going to his house to see if I can find out what happened."</p><p>It could be his imagination, but he might know who she was talking about. If Dot's caretaker was the boy Princess Atta loved…</p><p>What could he say?</p><p>Of course he knew how it felt to want answers, but he also knew how much of an understatement it was to say that the truth hurt. At least it was easy in his case, since he only wanted to know what led him to his current life. He already knew he survived, but Dot wanted to know about someone else. She didn't know how someone she cared about ended up, if he was even alive. That wasn't something he could say she was better off not knowing.</p><p>"Why did you go quiet?" Dot asked, staring intently at him.</p><p>Flik could only stare sadly back. "I just had a bad feeling, that's all." He knew there was no stopping her, and he didn't want to deny her the right to find out either. If she didn't take it well, he would just have to be there for her. "I'll help you. Where are we going?"</p><p>A grin spread over her face. "Great! The first place we're going to is his house!"</p><p>"House?"</p><p>"Yep, he was a gardener, so he had a house by one of the flower fields," Dot chirped. "I know a way inside, but we have to get home first."</p><p>Inside… She meant inside the castle walls. "Is that really a good idea?"</p><p>"It's on the outskirts, and nobody goes in anyway. You'll be fine!" she insisted, and then winked. "Besides, you might meet Atta. She said not to start without her, but she works too late and I don't wanna wait anymore."</p><p>His heart ached at the mention of the older Princess, but he had to stamp it down. They weren't supposed to see each other again. "Er… We shouldn't—I mean, I'd like to meet her, b-but then you'd get in trouble." His cheeks warmed as he stumbled over his words. "I'll leave before she shows up. You just tell me when you think she'll come, and I'll be out of there in no time."</p><p>Dot pouted, disappointed. "Fine, but you might not have another chance." Downcast, she slumped her shoulders. "She's leaving soon, and I want her to have at least one friend before she goes. I never got why she couldn't have any."</p><p>He agreed with her sentiment wholeheartedly, but… "That's for her to decide, Dot. If she wants to follow the rules, I don't want to make her break them." And if Princess Atta got upset at seeing him and sent him away, he didn't want that to be their last memory of each other.</p><p>Thankfully, the younger princess seemed to understand and nodded. "Okay, but I'm gonna try to convince her. I think she'd like it if you can talk to each other about making things."</p><p>He smiled gratefully. "I'd like that, too." Getting to his feet, he dusted himself off. "Now, the sooner we get to the house, the more we can do before your sister finishes her work, right?"</p><p>Once again, Dot was energized. "Yeah!" She ran back to where their friends waited and looked up to the silk dancer. "Can Flik come with me when we get to town? I want him to help me with something."</p><p>Rosie was apprehensive, not that Flik could blame her, and she gave him a thoughtful glance. "I suppose there's no harm in that, but maybe we should come along? Just to make sure nothing happens."</p><p>"Sorry Miss Rosie, but no grown-ups allowed."</p><p>Flustered, Flik sputtered: "D-Dot! That's rude!"</p><p>But Rosie only giggled, unfazed. "No grown-ups, huh?"</p><p>"Don't start!"</p><p>"But I thought you said being little isn't a bad thing," Dot piped up, the traitor.</p><p>"It's different when you're already an adult, which I am!"</p><p>"I don't see why you can't be a kid for a while longer. Once you're an adult, you'll wish you're little again," Rosie chimed in, reaching a hand out. "Now, are we going to argue all day or will you two get on?" She lifted Dot up first. "Where to?"</p><p>"Can you drop us off at the square?"</p><p>"Shouldn't be a problem."</p><p>It was easier said than done. The marketplace was crowded, many a carriage (not to mention a rhinoceros) forced to slow for shoppers carrying mountains of one product or another. There were lines everywhere, and one would be hard pressed to find anyone willing to move in fear of someone cutting in. And if a fight broke out, the chaos would ripple out as those nearby scrambled for dropped loot.</p><p>Flik had never seen anything like it. "What's happening? The market wasn't like this last week."</p><p>"Panicking. I've heard this happens after the first sign of production slowdown," Rosie explained grimly. "This time, it's when chickens produce less and less eggs." She nudged Dim into a halt as unaware shoppers rushed in front of them.</p><p>Dot slid down without warning, her wings gently lowering her to the ground. "Then we can walk from here."</p><p>Flik dropped off after her. "I guess it would be faster this way. Just make sure to stay together, okay?" He held out his hand for her, which she gripped.</p><p>"Flik, hold on." Rosie tapped his head. "If anything feels wrong, anything at all, you come find us and we'll take you home, okay?" She gazed seriously at him. "Promise me."</p><p>He gave her a reassuring smile. "I promise," he told her before leaving with Dot.</p><p>"What was that about?" the young princess asked when they were out of earshot. "Are you sick?"</p><p>"She's just a little protective," Flik said, not wanting yet another person to worry. "I think it's the first impression. I wasn't at my best when the circus group found me."</p><p>"How did they find you?"</p><p>"You shouldn't ask stuff like that so casually," he chided goodnaturedly, though with a grimace. "It's not a good memory for me."</p><p>"Sorry."</p><p>"It's all right, I'm sure you didn't mean anything by it."</p><p>Having nothing more to say, she led him out of the marketplace, but made a detour to the left. They walked along the stone wall that separated the rest of the town from the castle gardens. Nothing stood out in either direction, and even the trees and bushes they hid behind looked just like any other. There were no rocks hiding secret passages, no holes, nothing at all. He wondered, but he had to trust the word of the girl who knew the castle walls more than he ever could.</p><p>Dot checked their surroundings and grinned. "Wait here. I'll let you in," she told him before leaving in the direction they came from.</p><p>Curious, Flik knocked on the wall, but it was as stony as any other part. Examining the bricks didn't give him anything either; there was no sign that any had moved recently. It was either a very elaborate mechanism or magic was involved, but it was definitely well-made and lived up to being a secret. He rustled the surrounding plants, moved some dirt, and even stepped back to see if the stones formed any special picture; but to no avail. All that remained was the waiting game.</p><p>He double-checked the bricks for symbols when a hand phased through, grabbing his vest and pulling him in before he could cry out. Where one moment he saw gray; the next he was hit by a splash of blue, purple, pink, and white. The change was so sudden that he reeled back, but his head hit solid wall. "Ow!"</p><p>"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you!" he heard Dot giggle.</p><p>"You couldn't have warned me?" Flik grumbled as he rubbed the sore spot, cracking an eye open to take in his surroundings. There were hydrangeas everywhere. "Where are we?"</p><p>"In the blue-purple section of the castle gardens, which is the best part!" Dot proclaimed, her arms lifted to the sky dramatically. "This is where my caretaker lived and worked. Hydrangeas were his favorite flowers too, so it's really lucky he got to wake up to them." Not wasting another second, she shoved something coarse into his free hand. "Now, put this on! If anyone asks, you're a gardener."</p><p>Flik looked down at the thing she gave him, which was a green vest with golden threads made to look like veins on leaves. "This is…?"</p><p>"All the servants wear these," Dot explained helpfully. "If anyone happens to see you, then you won't get in trouble right away. Just make sure to give it back before you leave, though. They count these for some reason."</p><p>Shrugging, he removed his own brown vest to replace with the servant's vest. "How do I look?" He found her staring intently again. "That bad, huh?"</p><p>She blinked and shook her head. "No, you look the part." Her tone was distant and her eyebrows furrowed, but she recovered quickly and took his hand. "C'mon! Let's go inside."</p><p>It was then that he realized they were right next to a small cottage, specifically next to its open workshop containing a forge. That was the first red flag. Abandoned as it was, he could tell it was very used and certainly not something a simple gardener would have. Inside only further chilled his blood, because the first thing he saw was a box on the opposite side overflowing with scraps of wood. Next to and perpendicular to the box was a work desk surrounded by sketches, some of which were on the ground and some even nailed to the wall above it. The only other pieces of furniture were a faded rectangular wardrobe and a bed next to a closed window that faced the castle.</p><p>He knelt down to view one of the fallen sketches, which depicted a candle under a flower with a rainbow coming out of it. From what he could make of the messy scribbles, this was a prism prototype. A decoration, perhaps? It would have made for an interesting light source, and it all but proved his theory.</p><p>The boy who lived here was Princess Atta's crafter.</p><p>Poor Dot…</p><p>A child's whimper broke him from the revelation and he turned. "Dot? What's the matter?" He saw her holding her head, her expression just as it was last week. Worried, he put his hand to her forehead, searching for a fever. "Maybe we shouldn't look for anything today."</p><p>"But we just got here."</p><p>"I know, but it won't be worth it if you get sick."</p><p>"I'm not sick," she denied, leaning into his hand for comfort. "I get headaches when I try to remember him." The hope that mixed with her pained face was something no child should have to deal with. "There's something there. It's so close."</p><p>Flik wrapped her up in a hug, because it was the only thing he could do. He was too familiar with this kind of desperation, but what he knew would surely overwhelm her even more than if she made the connections herself. That didn't mean it didn't break his heart to see how much not knowing was hurting her. Being on this side of keeping secrets put so much into perspective.</p><p>Suddenly, the trembling stopped and Dot let out a shuddering breath. Slowly, she pulled away from him, and her face was eerily calm. Her hands moved from her head to his own, and again flattened his hair wings. Moment by moment, he saw her lip wobble and her eyes tear up.</p><p>Then she ran away.</p><p>"Dot!" He jumped to his feet and ran after her, though she had blended into the hydrangeas by the time he got to the door. "Dot, wait! DO—" His call cut off and he got a face full of dirt for his trouble. In trying to gather himself, he remembered exactly where he was and shouldn't be. Uncomfortably, he sighed in partial relief that she was at least home, but it didn't change that her memory might have returned and she was still crying. "I'm sorry…"</p><p>He needed to leave now. There was nothing left for him here.</p><p>Picking himself up, Flik was about to go back to where the secret exit was, but the sketches drew his attention. The prism had been so interesting, there had to be more just like it. There was no one to properly appreciate such ideas for years; it would be a shame if they were left that way. A light breeze even caused some of the papers to flutter, almost as if they were gesturing him to come closer.</p><p>"No, no, I can't," he muttered to himself, but the thought stuck.</p><p>He didn't need to take any of them. If he moved a page or two, he could put them back exactly as he found them. Maybe he could find inspiration from them somehow. It wasn't like he was going to come back, so just a look wasn't enough to ingrain anything into his memory anyway.</p><p>"...just one look," he said, stepping back into the cottage.</p><p>Flik walked right up to the desk, careful not to step on any of the papers on the floor. As soon as he laid eyes on the relics, he could feel all the love and passion poured into each concept. Nailed to the wall were several pictures of a telescope, each with calculations that must have to do with how far each could see; his hand hovered over a picture of a bird on a string; there was even a picture of a box with a lever, a music box prototype.</p><p>Just the image was enough to play the loving theme in his mind.</p><p>Someone who cared this much about his craft should be remembered. He wished there was a signature on the pages or that he knew the crafter's name, but the only thing besides handwriting that the pages shared was the number 'ninety-eight.' It couldn't have reflected any recent year, and it obviously didn't number anything, so he couldn't fathom what it could mean.</p><p>Oh wait, there was something legible on the music box prototype. What did it say?</p><p>
  <em>F—<em></em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Someone gasped behind him.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Flik felt his heart skip and he froze. The only things he could hear were the rustling papers, the pounding in his chest, and a woman's shuddering breath. Not just any woman.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>"<em>You might meet Atta."</em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>How could he have forgotten?</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>The room suddenly went dark, following a lot of slamming. The door to the forge must have been the last thing to shut, because he could hear Princess Atta's shallow and scared breathing to the side now. Each exhale put more and more weight on him and it got harder and harder for him to come up with some explanation or even apologize.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>But he didn't need to speak, because she rounded on him. "Flik, what are you doing here?!" Her voice was low, a harsh whisper.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>He couldn't bring himself to look at her. "I-I didn't mean—I was—"</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>"How did you even get in here? Of all places! You shouldn't know about this house!"</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>"P-Princess—"</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>She pulled him away from the desk. "And this vest! Why do you have it?!"</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>"I'm sorry! I'm sor—" As soon as he could make out her face in the dark, he felt everything lock up. His throat, his joints, his heart, everything felt absolutely still. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Movement terrified him, as if something would snap if he so much as twitched.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Evidently, he wasn't the only one. Princess Atta, not expecting this, became more careful with him. "Flik? Are you okay?" Where her hands gripped his arms, they moved down to his own locked palms. "Say something. Please, anything."</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>It started as a nudge at his core.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Her questions started to sink in.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>She knew something.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>"Y-you…"</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>...<em>know</em>…</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>"...me?"</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>And all he knew was <em>agony</em>.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aaaand all migrated. I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment if you wish. It may inspire me to write more quickly. :3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chains Revealed by Knowledge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He couldn't breathe.</p><p>He couldn't scream.</p><p>It hurts. It <em>hurts</em>!</p><p>Why is this happening?</p><p>
  <em>Why?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Help me!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Help!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>HELP!</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>She caught him as he collapsed.</p><p>"FLIK!"</p><p>They fell together.</p><p>Atta held the trembling body close, desperate to keep him from crumbling. The death grip he had on her back was painful, but she bore it as a long overdue penance. Each strangled cry ringing into her ear was another nail in her heart. Her panicked gasps started to match his rhythm. Each jerk as he thrashed made her hold on him tighten. She didn't move even as she heard rustles and rips from the pages on the ground. Her own eyes leaked when she realized how damp her shoulder was.</p><p>"Please! <em>Please</em>!" she prayed for the first time in years. "Make it stop! Please!"</p><p>This was so much worse than her nightmare, than the attack before. At least Flik was still coherent then, and he merely needed rest to get a hold of himself. But now? He was too far gone. Getting to him from the soul was the only way to help him, but the circumstances were against him. If she took him to the royal doctor, he wouldn't just be punished for trespassing. Sneaking him outside would take too long, especially since she didn't know anyone else.</p><p>She had to be the one to do it.</p><p>First, she had to put him to sleep, so as to not harm him further. As awful as it was, his incoherent state at least made him susceptible to spells. She lifted a hand to the back of his head to make a connection there. It wouldn't take as quickly as it would through his eyes, but she was not willing to let him go.</p><p>Their souls touched.</p><p>Her arm throbbed and a sting shot straight into her heart. It stole the air from her lungs and her vision spotted. In equal parts, it dug itself into her body yet tried to break out of it.</p><p>She reeled and he screamed in turn.</p><p>Too loud!</p><p>Fear for him spiked and she abandoned the instinct to recover. They connected again and she nearly retched at the pain. She knew what to expect, but she could never have been ready. It turned her mind into a maze that could warp spells into dangerous curses. She had to recite the steps: condense the magic, give it a purpose, leave it for his soul to take. Sudden relief whiplashed her senses as she pulled away upon releasing the spell. It was over for her, but what of him? She hadn't thought to make sure she did it right!</p><p>She soon got her answer as his cries and struggles died down and he went limp.</p><p>In the new quiet, Atta listened for any footsteps from the guards stationed outside, though they were ordered not to disturb her. They must have heard and might barge in. She tensed in anticipation, but no one came nor spoke. There wasn't even so much as an inquisitive knock, so she let herself calm down enough to get to work.</p><p>Gently, she laid him on the ground, taking his vest to roll into a pillow. He groaned and shivered as she moved him, still sensitive to pain despite his unconsciousness. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat and braced herself. Whatever happened when she tried to put him to sleep would only be amplified now that she was diving in. She wouldn't be able to leave until she patched the damage, lest he be left worse than before. She was scared, but she embraced a much more powerful force.</p><p>Here goes nothing.</p><p>The world around her darkened…</p><p>...and her soul spasmed in agony.</p><p>She had no form where she was, but she could feel her body open her mouth only to barely make a sound. Both head and heart pounded as she struggled to breathe. A blood-like sensation seeped out of her and she tried to cover nonexistent wounds. Even brushing "fingers" over tender spots caused shocks to ring from them. Every act hurt more and more, until she stopped trying altogether.</p><p>Then came the despair.</p><p>
  <em>Cr-!</em>
</p><p>This was all her fault.</p><p>
  <em>Cr-!</em>
</p><p>If only she hadn't been selfish...</p><p>
  <em>Crack!</em>
</p><p>Atta twitched at the crystalline echo. "Flik?"</p><p>
  <em>...crumble…</em>
</p><p>Something somewhere reformed and the pain fell away from her like leaves from a tree in autumn. She could feel them <em>clink!</em> away like scales, leaving behind peace that she swore to never take for granted. She gasped and realized she could breathe again. It still hurt to move, and she felt like she was made of paper, but it was bearable. For things to change this quickly could have only meant one thing. Did she dare hope?</p><p>Lastly, her sight returned, for better or for worse.</p><p>What she saw was a mess, to put it lightly. Most souls had an established resting set, usually a favorite place to be. Those that just finished Dying Memory would at least have broad enough frames that they could rebuild themselves as soon as they regained consciousness. But Flik didn't have anything that could be considered healthy. His framework was crooked and thin, though they were supported by what looked like green clips. They even quivered as if to hammer in his instability. The sheets that were supposed to form the comfort zone by now were all in tatters and continued to grow as such. Moreover, she could see some very recent tears and disconnections, no doubt from minutes ago.</p><p>They aren't taking care of him, she thought indignantly and at first. He wasn't loved, or else he would have been much healthier! Yet the warmth around her seemed to say otherwise. No, it <em>proved</em> otherwise. The green clips (he did mention being treated by a Manny) resonated an unmistakable fondness for the boy they occupied. That same fondness rippled from each of the unfamiliar faint faces displayed in the tattered sheets. It was the hallmark of a loving environment, so why didn't it reflect in any other way?</p><p>Unless it wasn't enough? But there had to be more than ten faces in total! She even saw herself and Dot a few times and they were just as warm among the more numerous ones. And how numerous they were! If they couldn't help him, then...</p><p>The frame shook violently and she was hit with pangs, an awful reminder if ever there was one, forcing her to recover before she could reach out. The spot she touched burned and she recoiled, but the sudden heat was more on the uncomfortable side. She could tolerate it if she touched it again. Her soul turned into a stream when she did just that. It traveled up and branched into the holes of the nearest sheet, filling them as water would a pool. From these they continued to the other frames, to other sheets, to other holes; going as far as to reattach pieces as well. Like sand on a shore, pieces of Flik's own soul were dragged and settled in the empty spaces. He took to her surprisingly easily despite all he had put her through moments before.</p><p>She stopped when the quaking did and all was calm. All the gaps were either filled with allocated pieces or patched with her own, albeit temporarily. But still no personality manifested beyond the framework. No matter what and in many a sense, he was wronged.</p><p>Atta had no choice except to leave him that way.</p><p>The first things she heard when she came to were calm breathing and a relatively steady heartbeat. She shot up, realizing that she had collapsed on top of Flik. Thankfully, he slept on, but she was embarrassed nonetheless.</p><p>Though the doors and windows of the cottage were closed, there was enough light that Atta could see his face. His expression now was as peaceful as he was within. He was quiet and still, sprawled like a fairytale princess cursed into slumber. A beam crept onto her face as she mused over whether a kiss would wake him up.</p><p>"Wait, what am I thinking?" she muttered as she looked away, frowning, face hot. "That would make everything worse. Besides, it's supposed to be true love's kiss, right?" Her heart ached, old wounds stretching to reopen.</p><p>Turning back to him, she touched his cheek and thumbed away the drying tracks. Her breath hitched when he leaned into her palm, then she smiled fondly when he sighed contentedly. Her eyes teared up at how close yet far apart they were. The locked door between them was replaced by a chasm. It was a berth of his own request and she was the only one between them who knew it even existed. Hard as it had been, she was willing to bear it if it meant he would live a normal life.</p><p>But somehow the gods saw fit to punish him as well for <em>her</em> mistakes.</p><p>That broke her. "It's all my fault." She bit back a sob. "I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen." She withdrew her hands to wipe her tears before they could land on him, not thinking to simply move away. "I wish… I wish we…"</p><p>Never met? No, she didn't want that. She couldn't imagine life without him. She wanted to believe he felt the same way, but his feelings weren't enough in the end.</p><p>Some powerful force love was.</p><p>Atta shook away the thoughts. "I'm sure that was the hardest choice you ever made." Her smile returned when she recalled his. How could she doubt him? She took his hand and held it, like old times. "How ironic. If it isn't a door, it's gotta be something else."</p>
<hr/><p>When Flik came to, it was to a world of confusion. He was lying on something cold, dusty, and hard. Only his head was cushioned, but not with the pillow in his crawl space. There was no wind, so he must be inside. The last and biggest thing he noticed was how his insides felt both warm and in pain.</p><p>It happened again.</p><p>The warmth was new. Every other time there would have been emptiness and a sense of loss. Now he needed to piece together what might have happened that caused him to relapse.</p><p>He was pulled through a wall into a field of hydrangeas. The castle garden. The one who pulled him through was Dot. She led him to a cabin, because they were supposed to find something in there. They talked about something. She started crying and ran off. He was going to leave because there was nothing he could do, but then he went back to the cottage. That was the last thing he remembered.</p><p>Hold on, he was still in the cottage?!</p><p>"Oh n—AH!" Bolting up had earned him a stab in the chest.</p><p>"Flik!" Someone squeezed his left hand and laid him back down.</p><p>And he froze. He'd know that voice anywhere. "Princess Atta?!" If she was here, then he'd been out for a while. Not to mention the broken promise. "I-I-I'm sorry! Please, let me explain...!" He wanted to, but he couldn't find the words.</p><p>She merely squeezed his hand again, and he blushed because she was holding it. "Ssh, we'll talk about that later." She sounded upset rather than disappointed. More urgent and careful. Parting ways had been important to her before, so the sudden change was worrisome. "Are you okay?"</p><p>He couldn't help grinning slightly at her concern. "Yeah, I'll live." His brows creased as he thought of Dot once more. She might still be crying somewhere. "I'll be fine, so can you go check on Dot? She's upset, but I can't do anything while she's in the castle."</p><p>Princess Atta looked towards the door to the forge, then back at him, repeating the motions only once. She shook her head. "I can't leave you alone," she said. "Dot will be okay as long as she's home."</p><p>Only physically. "She's just a child, Princess."</p><p>"And you were just <em>dying</em>!" No wonder she refused to leave. She <em>saw</em> it. "Or did you forget that?" she hissed at him, and he couldn't answer. She had a point. Her eyes widened at his silence. "You did." It wasn't a question.</p><p>"...it's a defense mechanism, I think," he confessed softly.</p><p>A small sigh left her. "That's probably for the best." She shifted into a more comfortable sitting position than kneeling. "I'll go find Dot as soon as you're all better, all right?"</p><p>He could only nod. Guilt welled in him, knowing she had to witness what his friends told him was an awful sight. "You shouldn't have had to see that, Princess. I'm so sorry..."</p><p>"Don't." It surprised him how stern she was. "Don't apologize to me. Not for this."</p><p>"What do you mean?" he asked before he could think twice. She hesitated, but was about to say something when he suddenly had a bad feeling. "Wait, wait! Actually, don't tell me."</p><p>"O-oh?"</p><p>"It might set me off. Again," he explained, fidgeting nervously. "How does Manny put it? 'Knowledge is a burden,' he says. Paraphrasing, of course. I'm not sure why, but if I find out something that's too much for me, this"—he gestured to his weakened state—"happens."</p><p>Her shoulders slumped. "Do you deal with this often?" she asked solemnly. "You collapsed back then, too."</p><p>Flik winced at the memory. "It's actually pretty rare, don't worry," he said with an uncomfortable grin. Rare, considering he could count a handful among all the days in five years. Only two of them, however, he could not figure out. "That time was probably a fluke. For the most part, I've come a long way since waking up. Years ago, that is."</p><p>Princess Atta shot him an incredulous look. "Your soul was in shambles when I got to it, and you think that's a <em>long way</em>?"</p><p>"Well, I can feel the difference a—You what?" He stiffened, expecting some growing discomfort or anything out of the ordinary, yet all he felt was a little pressure. Just enough that he knew it was there without it making a dent. Now that he thought about it, there was no one else with them, but someone had to have fixed him up. "Princess… did <em>you</em> treat me?"</p><p>"I did," she replied tersely. Her features softened. "Have I done a good enough job?"</p><p>Now it's his turn to be incredulous. "'Good enough?' You're amazing! I don't think I feel hollow right now!" he blurted out before shrinking in embarrassment (she shied as well) over what he said. The guilt pressed on him more when he recalled how Manny described emergency treatments. "But I should be asking about you. I—"</p><p>"Don't, I said," she interrupted seriously, and Flik promptly shut up. She waited, as if testing him, before speaking. "As I was saying, it doesn't look like you healed much at all." She bowed her head. "If you never… never…"</p><p>"Relapsed?"</p><p>She flinched, but nodded. "Or even fallen down that night, I wouldn't have known anything was wrong."</p><p>"It's not so bad once you get used to it." He shifted slightly and found the lingering soreness tolerable. "Not that I'd wish this on anybody." With his free arm, he pushed himself to a sitting position.</p><p>Much to her discomfort. "Shouldn't you rest some more?"</p><p>"I'm fine, really," he insisted, and she let him be—mostly. His gaze trailed to where their hands still linked.</p><p>She followed and seemed to finally notice them, too. "Uh… I'll just..." He didn't want to let go, but didn't protest as she slipped away. He could have sworn one of her fingers curled around the last of his.</p><p>The warmth did not recede. "Strange…" he whispered, staring at his now lone hand. It was the only and most fitting word to leave his mouth.</p><p>"What is?"</p><p>How he woke up, how he felt, how Princess Atta was acting; everything was strange. But what stood out the most was: "I don't feel empty when I'm with you."</p><p>To his surprise, she gasped. "So it <em>does</em> work." Her mouth quirked into a relieved half-smile, but it faded into a grim realization. "But you shouldn't be feeling empty at all."</p><p>"I know, but I'm used to it." Only because he hadn't known anything else, the more bitter part of his mind reminded him. He tried to shake it off. "At least I have an idea of where I am, in terms of progress."</p><p>She didn't comment, but there was enough conflict on her face to know she had something important to say. And just like the night before their last, she couldn't say it, but she had something else in mind. "Meet me at the lake tomorrow night," she told him with sudden determination.</p><p>"Wh-what?!"</p><p>"<em>Ssh</em>! Not so loud!"</p><p>"But I—You—" Flik sputtered, stuck between feeling joyful and shocked. He gave himself a moment to sort his thoughts. "I'd love to, but are you sure?" He cringed at his choice of words. "What about the law?"</p><p>The certainty disappeared from her eyes. She didn't seem present, but only for an instant. "I can't stand by while you're suffering," she affirmed her decision. "And if it's true that you feel different around me, I might be the only one who can help you."</p><p>"What makes you say that?" he asked curiously. "You know what's happening to me?"</p><p>"I'll explain when we meet," she told him, biting her lip. "Now isn't the time." One of her hands hovered over the forgotten sketches on the ground. Some of them were ripped. "Nor the place."</p><p>Flik saw the prism sketch among the ripped ones. It wasn't like that when he first saw it. "Wha—Did I do this?" He reached for it, but stopped himself from picking it up.</p><p>Her expression was oddly patient. "I know you didn't mean to." She carefully gathered the papers, making sure not to mix them up. "Do you think you can help me fix these?"</p><p>"Of course!" he said maybe overzealously, so he took a step back. "I mean, I don't have much experience in fixing paper, but I'll be very careful with them."</p><p>And she blessed him with her radiant smile again. "I know you will. Now"—she offered her hand—"you should go home and rest. Can you stand?"</p><p>"I think so." They stood together, and he was silently grateful that he felt normal, in many senses of the word. It was only cut off by the awkward realization that he wasn't sure how to leave. "Er… You wouldn't happen to know how the magic wall works, do you?"</p><p>"Oh, no, I don't." Princess Atta looked embarrassed, not that she needed to be. "I'll go find Dot. Wait here. Nobody else is allowed in, so you'll be safe." She hurried away to the door facing the castle.</p><p>"Princess," Flik called, pausing her in her tracks, "go easy on her, please? I'm the one who should have known better."</p><p>Her head tilted as if she was rolling her eyes. "All right," she said with a smile in her tone, and then she left.</p>
<hr/><p>Atta marched toward the guards standing some ways from the cottage, both of whom stood straight as they heard her approach. "I wish to look for my sister," she ordered, and they nodded without a word. It was only natural, she supposed, lest they become acquaintances.</p><p>And so, despite the company escorting her through the castle halls, the search was a one-woman endeavor. There were barely even greetings from the orderly servants on either side of her. Most bowed slightly as she passed. Any words some might say, if any did, were so quiet that they were lost to the clacking of uniform boots against the marble floor.</p><p>Detached and aloof. They themselves would be no different if they traversed among prison cells. If not for the polished stone and ornate paintings, the walls would have been indistinguishable from those in the dungeon.</p><p>But isn't the whole castle a cage?</p><p>Now isn't the time, she scolded herself. She needed to find Dot.</p><p>There were few places Dot went to whenever she was upset: the cottage, Mother's room, her own room, and Atta's room. The cottage was already crossed off, she was certain that memory was involved, and Dot never went to Mother for that; so it only left the princess' rooms. Dot's room was closer, and Atta guessed her headache wouldn't allow her to last the climb up the tower, so that was where she chanced.</p><p>The younger princess' door was modest, for what it was. Dark, smooth walnut, like every other door in the castle.</p><p>Every door.</p><p>Even—</p><p>Atta shook her head. Her thoughts scattered, and she knocked.</p><p>The door opened before she could call and she was pulled into a lilac room of lavish furniture and littered with unfinished kits and tools. A different aesthetic, a welcome change. For once, she did not feel suffocated.</p><p>Dot led her away from the closing door and stood before her, posture stiff and quivering. Her eyes were swollen from having cried and her face was covered in smeared tears. But she looked more nervous than grieving now. It could only mean that the poor girl dealt with the entirety of her pain all alone, and the idea clenched Atta's heart. Choosing between her and Flik was a difficult decision already, but hindsight was cruel.</p><p>Yet when she opened her mouth to apologize, Dot beat her to the punch. "I'm sorry, Atta!" she apologized, expecting to be scolded despite the state she was in, as if she never needed comforting in the first place. It was baffling. Still she continued, glancing to her window which overlooked the cool half of their color wheel garden: "I saw you come out of the cottage and you probably saw Flik because I forgot to let him out. Please don't get mad at him. I'm the one who asked him to help."</p><p>There was something familiar and endearing about the way she rambled that Atta had to smile. "Dot, I'm not here to scold you," she said, passing her sister a handkerchief. "Are you okay? Flik told me that you ran off upset. You worried him."</p><p>"I didn't mean to," Dot replied sheepishly, soon looking solemn.</p><p>"What's the matter, then?" asked Atta softly, but a fearful part of her had a guess.</p><p>And the answer confirmed it. "It's him. Flik is… He's—" Dot shook her head, unable to finish. "He doesn't remember anything." Her eyes started to fill again. "But he's gotta be in there somewhere, right? We can jog his memory, can't we?"</p><p>She doesn't know, Atta realized. Flik must not have been able to explain, but that made things so much harder on her. "Dot, I don't think that's a good idea." Was it her place to tell her? But letting her get her hopes up would inevitably lead to another—</p><p>"Why not?" The younger princess was suspicious. "You're making that face you get when you stress out."</p><p>In that case, there was no time to think. "It's just that you shouldn't try to force him," she settled.</p><p>Thankfully, she didn't have to elaborate further. Dot's initial urgency calmed, but was replaced by disappointment. "I guess you're right." She absently and lightly scratched her head. Even without words, she knew the implication. She just didn't know in what way Flik could be overwhelmed. "But what if he never remembers on his own? Or at all?"</p><p>"Then there's nothing we can do," answered Atta as gently as she could. "I know it's hard, but isn't it enough to know that he's okay?" Part of her wondered who she was really talking to. She herself wasn't convinced. "You're even friends again. That's very fortunate."</p><p>Dot looked down and pressed the handkerchief to one of her eyes. "It still hurts."</p><p>The words hit closer to home than she would have liked. Atta felt a rumble starting to climb her throat towards her eyes. "I know." Her voice wavered. "I'm sorry." Because it was her fault. If she hadn't been selfish, none of them would be suffering like this now. She needed to make this right, and that began with getting everyone back to their proper places. "We'll talk more later, but now we have to get him out of here. His friends must be waiting for him."</p><p>Dot stiffened again, but nodded and sighed. "Y-yeah. He doesn't need to help anymore…"</p><p>The elder princess forced down the lump in her throat. "Let's go." She took her sister by the hand. Who was it meant to ease? She didn't care to think about that. "Remember," she whispered when they exited, "don't say anything to him."</p><p>"When can I?"</p><p>"...that's for him to decide." Hopefully, Flik would never make the connection to ask.</p><p>The trip back felt quicker. She had noticed that the guards had to jog a few times to catch up to the princesses (their armor was louder in the tense hushedness of the halls). Her breath quickened a little when everything dimmed, as if it were night. The magic that would form her wings itched to be released because she had already wasted time as it was. Going down a flight of stairs and turning right, towards the garden, she had to remind herself to go on straight instead of making another turn to the dungeons.</p><p>He's not down there, she told herself. He'll make it out this time. That must be why she was anxious despite having traversed these halls many times. She'll calm down once he was outside, safe, where no one could accuse him again. Don't give anyone a reason to suspect.</p><p>That had been enough to keep her grounded, until they found the cottage door open.</p><p>"No!" Atta rushed in, half-expecting to witness an arrest (another arrest!), but the place was as quiet and dark as she left it. "Flik?" she called out cautiously, glancing behind her to make sure no one outside reacted.</p><p>A small bark responded.</p><p>And a very <em>not</em>-distressed voice scolded it. "Ssh!"</p><p>She was drawn to the corner by the window to a white puffy shape standing in front of a curled up and poorly camouflaged Flik. The dog, Aphie, was on his back, tail wagging wildly as the man lightly scratched the stomach area. Her fear melted away at the sight.</p><p>Flik, having been tense when she came in, relaxed when he recognized her. "Princess Atta," he greeted, waving with his free hand. "Is this little guy yours? He's really cute." He pulled his busy hand away, only for Aphie to grab it with his paws and pull it right back. "Don't worry, nobody's seen me. Someone just opened the door to let him in."</p><p>Atta hadn't had the chance to speak, for a lilac blur passed by her. "Flik!" Dot cried, kneeling next to him. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to leave you here! You're not mad at me, are you?"</p><p>"Why would I be?" He laughed good-naturedly and patted her head. He did sound sort of like a crow. "I'm just glad you're okay. You are feeling better, right?"</p><p>"Yeah, a little." The small princess joined him in petting the dog, who was too happy to get more attention. "I see you've met Aphie."</p><p>"That's his name? It suits him," Flik chuckled. "He's really friendly, isn't he? I've never seen a dog so happy to see a stranger before."</p><p>"He doesn't do that with just anyone," Atta said with a wry smile. "You're lucky, that's all." She plucked the pup from the ground, giggling slightly from how excited he still was. "Hurry now. You need to go home."</p><p>"You don't want to talk a little longer?" asked Dot, dismayed. "You might not get another chance."</p><p>"It's okay, Dot. We've had plenty of time to talk." Flik got to his feet and stretched. He did it all with no sign of what transpired before. He was either very good at hiding his condition or he really was well again. "But Rosie and Dim are probably wondering what's taking so long, don't you think?"</p><p>She gave in, but she wasn't happy about it. "Fine, but you better write letters to each other."</p><p>Atta grew exasperated at her tenacity. "Honestly, Dot!"</p><p>"Run, before she starts lecturing!" The mischievous girl failed to keep in her giggles as grabbed Flik's wrist and fled with him through the forge door.</p><p>Flustered as she was, Atta barely caught the mechanic turning back to smile his goodbye before disappearing. Her breath hitched, her face heated, and her unoccupied hand flew to her fluttering chest. It took more willpower than usual to stay in place instead of going to see them off, if only to glimpse that smile a second more.</p><p>That joyful, grateful smile… She had underestimated how much she missed it.</p>
<hr/><p>"Oh!" Gypsy gasped and frowned at what she thought had been a loose feather. It stung more than a normal hair strand would have.</p><p>"Is something the matter?" inquired Manny behind her, broken out of his trance.</p><p>"Just pulled a feather," she replied, exchanging the thing in question for her specialized brush. Served her right, she supposed, for having been too distracted to give an experimental tug first. "I should be asking you if something's wrong. You're normally deeper in meditation by now."</p><p>"Normally," he acknowledged, "but you haven't sung since you started grooming. I worry that something ails you." His beseeching gaze bore at her from the mirror's reflection.</p><p>It was enough to soften her. "You know me so well," she said thoughtfully. Her brush snagged, hindering her so that she had to untangle her strands with her fingers. Halted progress rarely irked her as much as it did now. "Do you think Flik doubts us?"</p><p>Attentiveness gave way to understanding. "I don't believe so. I would have noticed otherwise," he answered matter-of-factly.</p><p>She had no choice but to take his word, yet he couldn't ease her nerves. She had faith in her husband, of course! But what she couldn't see within often showed with contorted faces akin to one having salt rubbed all over a wound. "Are we not enough, then?"</p><p>"These things take time, my dear, and remember his case is more severe. The only way for him to heal sooner is..."</p><p>Cold silence fell over them. There was only one other thing they hadn't tried, <em>couldn't</em> try. They didn't even know if it would work, but it was stronger than anything they could provide. It was a force that turned treasure into rust, made prisons out of palaces, and remade broken hearts.</p><p>It was also an unpredictable force that depended only on Flik and whoever he chose.</p><p>"In the meantime, we are doing everything we can," Manny continued quite positively. He moved to her side and put his arms around her. "We needn't fear. We've all been genuine with the boy. That alone is enough foundation."</p><p>Her tresses finally untangled, and Gypsy leaned against him. "Wouldn't it be nice if love was all he needed?"</p><p>Manny grasped her left hand, their wedding rings touching. "You might be surprised."</p>
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